The Not Quite Love Letters
by Limelight
Summary: Because, technically, the first love letter that Solo wrote to Organa was blackmail. UPDATED. NO, SERIOUSLY.
1. Of Blackmail and Therapists

**Disclaimer: All belongs to George Lucas, I am making no profit from this; don't sue me.**

**Without further ado:**

****

**The Not-Quite-Love Letters**

**Message sent at 0953 hours, Day 13, Month 3, Year 3042**  
  
Captain Solo,  
  
I would like to thank you for your selfless contribution in the battle of Yavin 4, as well as your part in rescuing me. The rebellion would be delighted if you should choose to stay and join us in our fight for freedom, as would myself and the High Council. Please consider our offer.  
  
Princess Leia Organa  
  
P.S. It would be greatly appreciated if the incident last night with the holochess table went unmentioned. I would like to point out that I do not normally act in that way. In light of the fact that it is a time of celebration and joy, perhaps we could just forget the whole thing.  
  
P.P.S. If your memory works better than I first anticipated, I am willing to pay credits.

* * *

**BANK TRANSACTION  
1003 hours, Day 13, Month 3, Year 3042  
  
Sum of 100 credits to be transmitted from account of PRINCESS LEIA ORGANA to a CAPTAIN HAN SOLO.**

* * *

_Journal of Princess Leia Organa_

_13th Day, 3rd Month, 3042nd Year  
_

_How are you supposed to start a journal anyways? "Dear Diary", "Dear Journal"? I personally think it is pointless to address a letter to no one. In fact, I believe this whole idea to be pointless. My therapist's idea, that is. She believes that writing this will help me, help "disperse my anger."  
  
This was how the conversation with my therapist went:  
  
Her: How do you feel? _

_Me:  
  
Her: Okay. You don't want to talk about. Perfectly normal. Any ideas of suicide?  
  
Me: No.  
  
Her: Are you sure?  
  
Me: Yes.  
  
What I didn't say was that I can't get revenge if I'm dead. Why would I kill myself with out revenge?  
  
She then proceeded to tell me to write this. She also said she wouldn't read it, which I thought was a bit nerf-brained. For all she knows, I could be writing nothing. I don't think that's exactly therapeutic.  
  
Why do I have a therapist? You might ask that if you existed, but you don't. So I'll answer. I wouldn't if you were a living, breathing being.  
  
I have a therapist because my planet – my home – has been transformed into a bunch of particles and atoms. Destroyed. If I were a romantic, I would call the particles stardust and live my life believing that what I once had is part of everything now, is floating around me. If I believed in the Force I could take comfort in the fact that my family and friends are one with it. Unfortunately, I'm not a romantic and I can't believe in anything that lets such terrible things happen to masses of beings, so I must continue with my life knowing that my world is gone. It is bits of dust. Bits of dead, microscopic dust that will never have any peace. They will just float around alone looking for the rest of themselves, the missing pieces. Like me._

* * *

**Falcon Ship Log: 1343 hours, Day 13, Month 3, Year 3042  
  
**

**Me and Chewie are docked at the rebel base on Yavin 4. How we got here is a long story.  
  
On Tatoonie we picked up some bright-eyed kid called Luke Skywalker and an old man who was convinced he was a Jedi warrior named General Kenobi. Goddess knows whose army he was from. Anyways, they wanted to go to Alderaan, so we flew them out there. Easy, right? Except for on thing; there was no Alderaan. It was gone, vaporized by those sith-loving imperials. We got caught in the tractor beam of their star destroyer, called the Death Star. (Imps sure know how to make a person welcome. It really says "Hey, welcome to our ship.")  
  
When we finally got off the damn thing, we were minus Kenobi and plus a princess. The princess of the late Alderaan. She was a prisoner on the destroyer and the kid got some crazy idea to save her. I only agreed because the kid said she'd have credits. I was expecting an old lady, or something, like real life princesses. But this one looked like she had stepped out of a holo-vid, all big-eyed with long hair up – until she opened her mouth. The broad didn't know when to shut-up.  
  
Anyways she turned out to worth quite a lot; forty-thousand credits kind of a lot. We were paid as soon as we landed at the rebel base. One of the little droids the kid has was actually carrying plans for the Death Star. The rebels looked at the plans, and whoosh; they decide to attack the destroyer! Sith, them and their little fighters against that thing, it was the stupidest thing I ever heard. Me and Chewie took off after that, wanting to get out of there before the battle started. I wasn't about to stick around while the rebellion committed mass suicide. But the kid decided to stay. Well, I thought, they can all be martyrs if they want.  
  
Unfortunately, while were preparing the jump for hyperspace, my conscience, which I thought was permanently dead and buried, decided to resurrect itself. I couldn't stop thinking about wet behind-the-ears farmboys and big, brown eyes. And then I imagined them all blowing up. Mis-take!! I turn around so fast I momentarily couldn't see straight. I came back just in time to blow a Tie off the kid's back. Then he blew the Death Star and we went back to celebrate.  
  
Note to self: The Princess is a lot more fun when she's drunk. She even tried to dance on top of the holo-chess table. It was kind of cute.  
  
Revenue from trip: 47 thousand credits.  
Plus 100 from the princess for keeping my mouth closed  
about the holo-chess 'incident.' **


	2. The Sky is Falling

**Wow, reviews!! I'm so happy! **

**Solid Fox:** Glad you enjoyed it!

**Eridala: **There is more, there is more!!

**Prisoner 24601: **Thank you!

**Pokey1984: **Thanks for the tip about Ties. I was wondering about that. I was planning to take this all the way past Ord Mantell to right after the fight in the coridor at the begging of ESB. I might continue further if you guys wany me to. I'll be posting pretty often.

**RivendellWriter: **Thank you!

**So guys, here is another chapter, hope you like it.**

**

* * *

**

**Message sent at 0600 hours, Day 15, Month 3, Year 3042**  
  
Captain Han Solo,  
  
You are cordially invited to attend the Yavin 4 ceremony as a Guest of Honor. The ceremony starts at 1000 hours tomorrow. You are to be presented with a medal of bravery. We hope to see you there.  
  
The High Council

* * *

**Message sent at 2100 hours, Day 16, Month 3, Year 3042**  
  
Hey Your Worship, wanna come polish my medal?

-Solo

* * *

**Message sent at 0600 hours, Day 17, Month 3, Year 3042**  
  
ATTENTION REBELS:  
  
It is now illegal to throw your computer terminal out a window after hours.  
  
The High Council

* * *

**Base Hospital: Patient Log  
**  
**Name of Patient:** Antillies, Wedge

**Injuries:** Slight Concussion

**Cause of Injuries:** Hit in the head by falling hard drive

-

**Name of Patient:** Band, Mar

**Injuries:** Broken Collarbone

**Cause of Injuries:** Hit by falling terminal

-

**Name of Patient:** Wes, Jason

**Injuries:** None, but patient complained of pain in hand.

**Cause of Injuries:** Pain in hand seemingly caused by falling mouse pad.  
  


* * *

**Message sent at 0700 hours, Day 17, Month 3, Year 3042**  
  
ATTENTION REBELS:  
  
It is now illegal to throw your computer terminal out a window at anytime. Those of you pranksters out there will be caught. We don't need to be on the lookout for imperials and falling terminals.  
The High Council

* * *

**Message sent at 0842 hours, Day 17, Month 3, Year 3042**  
  
Your Worship,

Need some help fixing your window?  
  
-Solo

* * *

_Journal of Princess Leia Organa  
17th Day, 3rd Month, 3042nd Year  
  
_

_My therapist thinks I should write about something positive. Something not related to Alderaan. She thinks I should describe Han and Luke, thinks that because they rescued me from it they now represent goodness in my life. I suppose she's right, in a twisted kind of way. They are my world now, them and the rebellion. My world is narrowed to a boy and a man who I hardly know, who don't know me. The problem with having such a small world is that it is a fragile; people can take it away from you. The Empire has already proved that an entire planet is easy to destroy, albeit two small humans.  
  
But now I am straying towards what-I-must-not-mention, at least not while I'm still so "unstable." So I will describe my rescuers, if only because I pity my therapist. I think she believes I'm going to pull through. Sweet, but hopelessly misguided.  
  
Luke is a darling, young, naïve, and perhaps the only truly good person I know. But even so, he is too careful around me, like I'm made of glass. I want him to be comfortable around me. The other day I saw him joking around with some other pilots, and I felt very alone. Anyone who would dare to joke around with me is dead.  
  
I've also noticed something else; I have lost my identity. No one calls me by my name anymore, it's always Princess, or Your Highness, never Leia. Of course, there's always the Captain to play around with my titles. It's refreshing. Annoying, but refreshing.  
  
Captain Solo. I know almost nothing about him except that he has beautiful eyes and is very apt at blackmailing a person. And he calls me annoying names. Yesterday, though, he called me a different name. He called me Sweetheart. Of course, the suggestion behind that name is entirely inappropriate, but it was nice. Nice to hear a term of endearment, even if was coming from scruffy space pirate.  
  
I have to write this by hand because my terminal is currently getting fixed. It's a rather long story, and one in which I lost my temper. Because of what I did, all the pranksters of the Alliance are currently throwing their terminals out windows onto unsuspecting passersby. It wasn't entirely my fault; the High Council issued a rather brainless rule regarding terminal throwing. Anyways, the point is my hand is getting tired._

* * *

**Falcon Ship Log Day 17, Month 3, Year 3042  
  
I gave back the money, all 47 thousand credits worth. Conscience is still alive and kicking.  
  
Reason: Luke has a way of people making people feel guilty, and the Princess is- well, she's beautiful. You try and stay heartless facing them.  
  
Now I'm stuck here indefinitely, beautiful girls be damned; Jabba is not gonna like this.**

****

* * *

Like it? Don't like it? Tell me all about it!


	3. Close Quarters

Reviewers, you have restored my faith in humanity! Thank you for the positive reviews, and constructive criticism. Goodness knows I can't spell for potatoes.

**Jane: **I'll be sure to look up as I walk. Glad you find it funny.

**Solid Fox: **Hello again! Don't worry about Wedge, it was only a mild concussion. :p

**Katie: **Thank you! Han and Leia are also my favourite couple and I love them in this time period.

**Suze:** Thanks! Different is good.

**Prisoner 24601: **Hi again! Thank you very much!

**Lioma - Formerly Darth Flirt: **Thank you for pointing out my spelling mistake. I really can't spell. Oh, and does anyone know how to spell Ord Mantell? Is that right? Thank you for the compliment, too!!

Well, ladies and gentlemen, hold on to your hats; we're leaving Yavin 4!!

****

**

* * *

**

**Message sent at 0600 hours, Day 18, Month 3, Year 3042  
**  
ATTENTION REBELS:  
  
This to inform you that Yavin 4 is being evacuated. Please report to your commanding general for coordinates, or board a transport immediately. Please consult the following list of transports.  
  
The High Council  
  
**Transport 1:** All members of the Council.  
  
**Transport 2:** All personal in sectors 1 and 2.  
  
**Transport 3:** All personal in sectors 3 and 4.  
  
**Transport 4:** All personal in sectors 5 and 6.  
  
**Transport 5:** All personal in sector 7.  
  
All pilots please report to your fighters, as you will leave in them.

* * *

**Message sent at 0603 hours, Day 18, Month 3, Year 3042  
**  
Carlist,  
  
Why are we evacuating? This is pointless; all the imperials who know we're here are stardust. It's a waste of energy. Why wasn't I told we were making this decision? Wasn't there a meeting, or a briefing?  
  
Leia

* * *

**Message sent at 0605 hours, Day 18, Month 3, Year 3042**  
  
Darth Vader is alive. Get to a transport Leia.  
  
Rieekan

* * *

**Message sent at 0606 hours, Day 18, Month 3, Year 3042**  
  
What? How can you be sure?  
  
Leia

* * *

**Message sent at 0607 hours, Day 18, Month 3, Year 3042**  
  
He was spotted on Ord Parten. Where are you? The transports are filling up. Get to a one now.  
  
Rieekan

* * *

**Message sent at 0607 hours, Day 18, Month 3, Year 3042**  
  
Relax, I'm in my quarters.  
  
How can you know it wasn't a mistake?  
  
Leia

* * *

**Message sent at 0608 hours, Day 18, Month 3, Year 3042**  
  
There aren't too many tall men dressed in black with mechanical breathing. I am boarding a transport now and I have sent Captain Solo to you; you will leave with him. The Falcon is probably safer than any of our transports anyways.  
  
Rieekan

* * *

**Message sent at 0609 hours, Day 18, Month 3, Year 3042**  
  
You can't do that to me. I'll head to a transport. Just don't send him over her-  
  
Okay Rieekan, I got her. We're leaving. Solo out.

* * *

_Journal of Princess Leia Organa_

_Date Unknown_

_This is ridiculous! I've been put in a prison. That is what Rieekan did; he put me in a prison, supposedly to protect me, totally disregarding the fact that giving me to Captain Solo while attempting to keep me safe is a total contradiction.  
  
I suppose it's my own fault I'm here; I should have shut my mouth and obediently boarded a transport. But no, I had to know what was going on. Curiosity really does kill the mewsk.  
  
What's going on is that Darth Vader is alive. I'm not sure how or why, but he survived. I blame him personally for my current predicament.  
  
I am writing this on the data pad I carry with me. I figured it would relax my nerves, which have been shot to hell, (I must be spending too much time with the Captain; I can't think of where I picked up such a phrase) and with good reason too. Having to evacuate with Captain Solo is bad enough, but now we're stuck. The Faclon's communications blew, and before we could get the coordinates of the new base, too. So we'll have to drift around aimlessly until Han can fix them.  
  
Now I myself have no problem with drifting, the one exception being that the imperials could easily find us. The Captain didn't exactly appreciate it when I pointed this out to him. We had a rather nasty fight after that.  
  
All right, I admit it was horrible._ I _was horrible, with some of the things I said. It somehow became a personal fight, I'm not sure how. It's a little hard to have a personal fight with someone you met four days ago. All our other arguments have been mostly banter, mostly harmless, mostly about silly things.  
  
Not like this.  
  
Not us purposely trying to hurt each other, if only emotionally. I told him he was a mercenary, that he was all about money, that he was insensitive and callous. There were no teasing nicknames in this fight.  
  
But what he told me, what Han said, it was hurtful too. He said that I was cold, heartless. That I was incapable of feeling. And do you know what - I was afraid. Afraid he was right.  
  
So now I've retreated to his cabin, which he lent me for the trip, to ignore him and how close to tears I was. Of course, the effort is being wasted because I am completely surrounded by evidence of him, including his bed, which even smells like him.  
  
Oh dear. Han just sent me a written apology. Well, colour me surprised! He must have slipped it under the door. It's not the most eloquent apology I've ever read, and there are no flowers to accompany it, but it will have to do.  
  
I guess I should go apologize to him as well. But you must understand that our apologies aren't really anything to do with "I'm sorry". I suppose we're both too stubborn to come right out and say the words. No, our apologies are self-depreciating comments and small smiles. Which is why Han's apology went like this:  
_

> ****
> 
> **Hey Sweetheart,**
> 
> **I'm making Alderaanian soup for dinner and I'll take a break from tampering with the communications to sit down and eat it with you. That is if you want to come. I promise to try not to shoot my mouth off.**  
** -Han**

_Sweet really, so I won't tell him that I hate Alderaanian soup more than Vader. And maybe, if I'm lucky, I'll get a lopsided smile for desert.  
  
But it's not like I like him, or anything.  
_

* * *

**Falcon Ship Log **

**Date: Who the hell knows?  
  
(It's kinda my fault we don't know the date.)  
  
Communications are down. My fault; I forgot to make sure they were stable before we left. In my defense, I was carrying a kicking monarch over my shoulder as we were leaving. The woman wanted to play martyr, or something. Point is; I was distracted.  
  
So now we're stuck floating around until I can fix the communications, cause we don't even have the coordinates for the new base, and boy is Her Worship in a bad mood. I guess it might have something to do with the sack- of-potamoes treatment, but still. When the communication first blew she told me something around the lines of "Congratulations, now we're a prime target for the imperials!" I think she even sarcastically said she always wanted to die in an enclosed space with me. Now, I might have made a slight sex-related comment at that point, but she completely blew it outta proportion.  
  
It was probably the worst fight we ever had. I can't remember what I said, or what she said, but when the smoke cleared and the yelling died down there were tears in her eyes. She ran into my cabin and I haven't heard a peep since.  
  
So now I'm sitting here feeling very guilty. I haven't even bothered to go help Chewie with the communications, and my conscience shows no sign of climbing back into the hole it was in before I met the Princess.  
  
I think I might write her an apology. It's probably safer than talking to her face to face.  
  
I just stuck the note under her door. I think it'll work. Now I have to make dinner.  
  
-**

**A little later:  
  
So here, in an attempt to keep this log professional, I have put my mission of the day down.  
**

> **  
Mission: Apologizing to Leia **
> 
> **Status: Completed **
> 
> **Reward: Three smiles, one laugh, and prolonged view of tearless brown eyes.  
  
Notes: Have decided that I need a backbone.**

**

* * *

**

**Message sent at 0824 hours, Day 22, Month 3, Year 3042**

Base Coordinates:

Maroduos 5, Mardo System

Sector 03356

Ground Control


	4. Sweethearts Day

**Hello and happy weekend!!**

**In honor of the weekend I have a slightly more rommance-based chapter. But first, review answers:**

**Jeanida-Myrishi: **Oh dear. Didn't anyone ever tell not to light candles while your reading fanfiction? Gald you found it funny.

**Kazzy:** Thank you very much!

**Mara look-a-like: **We wouldn't want you to go crazy now, so here's another chapter.

**Mara look-a-like: **Oooh! Two reviews from you!! Thank you.

**simmerly: **Thank you!

**-------- (I'm assuming that means you didn't write down a name):** Here is more for you!

**skywalker05: **Thank you! Everybody seems to really like the whole terminal thing... Maybe I should throw things out the window more often in this story!

**RivendellWriter: **Hello again! Glad that you like it!

**Pokey1984: **Actually, I've been having problems with my computer too. That is why this post came so late in the day. Sorry guys. But thank you very much for the nice review. Oh, and if you ever do find a cannon version of what happened on Ord Mantell, let me know!

**So here we go...**

**

* * *

**

**Message sent at 0600 hours, Day 30, Month 3, Year 3042**  
  
ATTENTION REBELS:  
  
You have all made a wonderful effort working on our new Maroduos 5 base these last seven days. For this we have decided to give you tomorrow, Sweethearts Day, as a holiday. So grab your spouse, partner, significant other, and have a great Sweethearts Day.

The High Council

* * *

**Message sent at 0843 hours, Day 30, Month 3, Year 3042**  
  
ATTENTION REBELS:  
  
Mon Mothma will be giving out free kisses in the Hanger Bay tomorrow. Come get kissed by the great lady herself.  
  
The High Council

* * *

**Message sent at 0845 hours, Day 30, Month 3, Year 3042**  
  
ATTENTION REBELS:  
  
This to inform you that the previous message was a practical joke. The High Council did not send it, and certainly no one will be kissed by Mon Mothma anytime soon. The prankster will be caught.

The Real High Council

* * *

**Meeting Transcript:** On the Subject of Harder Discipline  
  
Declaration 1: The High Council hereby orders that there will be more severe punishments regarding the recent pranks.  
  
Declaration 2: Wes, Jason is to be removed of his terminal as punishment for his recent message prank.

* * *

**Message sent at 1321 hours, Day 30, Month 3, Year 3042  
**  
Princess Leia,  
  
Would you mind terribly going on a rendezvous with an old friend of mine? He is a potential supplier for the rebellion and is very interested in you.  
  
Assuredly, it will be a simple business meeting. All you have to do is smile and look pretty, and the Alliance gets new weapons.  
  
I will be waiting to relay your answer to him.  
  
Mon Mothma

* * *

**Message sent at 1325 hours, Day 30, Month 3, Year 3042**  
  
Mon Mothma,  
  
I'll go, but only for the weapons.

Leia  
  
P.S. If I go, will you give out kisses tomorrow?

* * *

_Journal of Princess Leia Organa _

_1st Day, 4th Month, 3042nd Year_

__

_My therapist believes that I am making an improvement. Myself, I could care less. As long as I no longer collapse every time I hear the word Darth Vader, hey, I'm cured!  
  
You see, we had a briefing a couple days ago in which we were trying to figure out where Vader had been last spotted. Unfortunately for me, they showed a picture of the man of darkness himself in all his full, living blackness on the display screen. I went into shock, or something. The doctor told me after that Han carried me to the base hospital. I remember being cradled against a person, remember hearing words of comfort whispered in my ear-  
  
But then again, that must have been an after affect of the shock.  
  
My therapist says that it is perfectly normal to go into shock, perfectly normal to start screaming in the middle of a briefing, perfectly normal to do all this simply because I saw a picture. She says in my conscious mind I know that a picture won't hurt me, but my subconscious believes it can. Imagine that, betrayed by my own subconscious.  
  
Anyways, it doesn't really matter now. I'll just stay away from visuals for a while.  
  
Besides, today is Sweethearts day, and I have a date. Han and Luke turned a little green when I told them.  
  
Of course, it is simply a profession meeting, but they don't need to know that.  
  
My "date" is with a prestigious businessman, who goes by the name of Machod Gin. He just might give the rebellion weapons if I play my card right. I must go get myself ready.  
  
Confession: It was nice to see Han looking jealous._

* * *

  
**Falcon Ship Log**

**Day 1, Month 4, Year 3042**

**Word on the street is that Her Highnessness is going on a date. Actually, it's more like word on the hanger bay... whatever. And now I've heard a confirmation from the Princess' own mouth.  
  
The guy is Machod Gin. He's some rich big-shot, and, according to base gossip, the most eligible bachelor around.  
  
Actually, she's probably on her date now. Gin's probably making smart, interesting conversation and then she'll probably laugh and put a hand on his arm, and later they'll dance, and when he takes her home and drops her off in his fancy hovercar he'll lean close and-  
  
Okay, I need to calm down.  
  
I just noticed something; sidekicks never get the girl. In the cheep holo- vid I'm watching the hero just combed back his perfect hair and kissed the scantily clad heroine. Meanwhile, his sidekick is somewhere in the middle of an ocean, being interrogated by an evil war lord. I mean, come on! What do holo-vid writers have against us sidekicks?  
  
I guess I am sorta like the kid's sidekick. But what in the cosmos does that make Chewie? The partner of the sidekick? Do sidekicks even have partners? Is it allowed?  
  
Anyways, by holo-vid laws Luke should be the one kissing Leia, not Gin. Of course, that would leave me in the middle of an ocean, or in Jabba's jailhouse. What I'm trying to say here is that holo-vid life must really bite.  
  
But damn, if I were in a holo-vid I sure as hell wouldn't be sitting around here. I would be doing something.  
  
I think now would be a good time to go do something, go show that rich bastard what a Correllian can do when he's angry, go shove his face and his perfect conversation into his food, go take revenge for all the sidekicks of the world, go sweep Leia off her feet, take her back here to my cabin, and-  
  
I think now would also be a good time to admit I may be slightly attracted to Leia. Slightly.  
  
Not enough to be jealous or anything. **

* * *

**Base Hospital: Patient Log**  
  
**Name of Patient:** Solo, Han

**Injuries:** Black eye, broken jaw

**Cause of Injuries:** Brawl 

* * *

Hey Luke, I can't talk cause of my jaw. So I'll write my answers down here.

No, I did not take this off Gin; the hospital was kind enough to provide me with this data pad.I swear I didn't start it! I just made a comment or something and the guy decked me.I have no idea why the rest of the restaurant joined in!!Hey, well, at least Leia didn't get hurt. Is she really mad?That bad, huh?I'm not jealous. I just don't like businessmen.Shut up.

* * *

_Journal of Princess Leia Organa _

_1st Day, 4th Month, 3042nd Year_

__

I_ can't believe it, I can't believe him! He is an egotistical, selfish, bantha-brained – man!  
  
I'm going to need two therapists now; one to help me deal with the loss of Alderaan, and one to help me deal with the walking stress-machine that is Han Solo! Of all the ridiculous, stupid things-  
  
I'm going to start from the beginning.  
  
Machod took me to this nice little café on the other side of Maroduos 5. We were making polite conversation when Han walked in. I noticed, of course, but I didn't say anything to Machod.  
  
A little later in the evening I excused myself to go use the facilities, and when I came back all the people in the café were engaged in a full out assault on each other! There was food flying everywhere; I swear I saw a waiter launching tequilas from behind the bar counter. And in the middle of it all was Han and Machod locked in mortal combat. Coincidence? Sure, and Vader's a nice, respectable businessman. I left as fast as I could.  
  
Admittedly, Machod had been rather boring. In fact, the reason I left for the 'fresher was to get away from his tales of office management scandals. ("When in fact, Leia, it had been the cleaning lady who had been placing the paper clips by the photocopier the entire time...")  
  
Even so, what Han did was unforgivable. We'll never get the weapons now.  
  
Privately, though, it was rather romantic, what he did. And really, I'd prefer a long look into a pair hazel eyes and a lopsided smile than rusty old weapons. _

_

* * *

_

**Falcon Ship Log **

**Day 1, Month 4, Year 3042**

****

**Well, I did something! Oh sith, did I ever.  
  
I have decided that being attracted to Leia is potentially dangerous to my health.  
  
After writing the last entry in this thing, I went to restaurant where _they_ were going to eat. They being, Leia and Gin. (Who Luke now refers to as the Fists of Steel, ever since he saw my bashed-up face. Why can't I be the one called a fist-related name? I mean, damn, all the guy's got on me is nice hair and about two thousand designer suits.) I walked in, all ready to go inflict some serious damage on him, when Leia looked up from her meal at me. And man, I have never seen such a cold glare in my entire life. I had to get out of the way or take my risks at being frozen to the polished fake-marble floor. Not a nice way to die. So I, typically, headed for the bar.  
  
Bad move.  
  
I'll admit I probably had one too many whiskeys. Enough for me to think it would be a good idea to attack Gin, but not enough for me to do it with Leia present. I waited until she went to the 'fresher, and then I headed for Gin.  
  
I didn't think businessmen knew how to fight.  
  
I didn't think he would hit me back quite that hard.  
  
And I sure as hell didn't think the whole damn restaurant would join in.  
  
To make a long story short, I ended up with a broken jaw, black eye, and the complete silent treatment from Leia. She came to visit me in the base hospital, but she just kind of leaned against a wall and stared at me and Luke. Not that I'm complaining; she was a nice change of scenery from the white hospital walls.  
  
But I'm really not sure how I'm going to fix this one.**


	5. Unofficial Status

**Hello guys,**

**Happy Belated Fathers Day!! Sorry I didn't post yesterday. Family get togethers. **

**Armiena: **Thank you very much!

**Pokey1984: **Han's honesty suprising you, eh? Hmm... I always thought that he was concious of the fact that he was attracted to Leia, even earlier on. Anyways, he goes into denial for some time here, but it doesn't last long. Thanks for the review!

**Solid Fox: **Thank you!

**Kazzy: **Yes, we definately don't want Leia and Luke together! That kiss on Hoth still gets to me. Shudder Thank you for the positive review!

**simmerly: **Thank you!

**jedi70: **Thank you!! I love Han too, and am very jealous of Leia.

** : **We need more Luke? Well, this is a Han and Leia romance... but there is a bit more Luke in this chapter, even if he is asleep, :D

**liz: **Thank you very much! And trust me, Gin is huge.

**minimindbender: **Thank you!

**----: **Thank you! You know, not writing a name could be taken as a form of creativity.

**Hi: **Thanks alot! Maybe I will published this over at 

**RivendellWriter: **Thank you!

Alright, on to the story!

* * *

****

**Meeting Transcript:** On the Subject of Unofficial Status  
  
Declaration: Soldiers that are not officially joined to the Rebellion but still fight with us, among us, are not the responsibility of the Rebellion. This means that the Rebellion will not, in the event that they are captured, come to their rescue. They shall not be permitted admission to the Base Hospital. They shall not be able to Base food. This also means they shall not receive any more information about the Rebellion than is absolutely necessary for them to carry on with their duties.

* * *

Dated: Day 10, Month 4, Year 3042

In the event that **CAPTAIN HAN SOLO** of the Millennium, unofficial pilot for the Rebellion, is captured, we, the Rebellion, will not be responsible for him and will not attempt a rescue, will not admit **CAPTAIN SOLO** to Base Hospital in the event that he is hurt, and will not permit **CAPTAIN SOLO** to eat Base food. This will only change if **CAPTAIN SOLO** joins the Alliance officially.  
  
**Signature of Supreme Commander Mon Mothma:** _Mon Mothma_

**Signature of General Dodonna:** _Dodonna _

**Signature of General Rieekan:** _R_

**Signature of Senator/ Princess Leia Organa: **

**

* * *

**

_Diary of Princess Leia Organa _

_10th Day, 4th Month, 3042nd Year_

__

_The Council has completely lost its mind, and I appear to be the only one with enough sense to see the mistake they are making, its magnitude. They have crossed the line. Unfortunately, they has been fast convincing people to their view, and believe me, it is getting very lonely on this side of the line.  
  
In an effort to save money, the Council has decided that people not officially joined to the rebellion are not worth taking care of. Not worth saving if they are captured by imperials. Not worth treatment from the hospital. Not even worth a share of the food the rest of us eat.  
  
Oh yes, "Welcome to the rebellion. We are fighting for fairness, equality, and freedom, but we don't feed our fighters if the haven't placed their signature on a piece of paper. Thank you and have a nice day."  
  
All day I've been placing **my** signature on pieces of paper, saying that I believe in this policy. You wouldn't believe how many unofficial soldiers there are. And every time I sign I feel as if I'm killing a part of someone. Killing their chances to live. Because now that this policy is in place, it is literally dangerous for unofficial soldiers to stay here. You could die from a bought of Sardanian Influenza, simply because you weren't allowed medication for the fever. The medicine would be just behind a door, right there. Anyone else would be able walk in and get it, but you would have to stand there. Dying.  
  
I wouldn't stay.  
  
But when I came to Han's form in the pile of forms, I couldn't bring myself to sign it. That would be like signing his death warrant. And yet I had no power. No power to save him, or the hundred others.  
  
I hate being helpless.  
  
So I asked Rieekan, who was with me, also signing away, to forge my signature. He stared, so I explained myself. He signed it, without saying a word. Then he rose and made to leave the room. However, he paused at the door and turned to look at me. A long, searching look that left me feeling bare. Then he spoke:  
  
"You really have it bad for that boy, don't you?"  
  
He left before I could pull myself together and answer. In the empty room, my "no" sounded hollow. False._

* * *

**Falcon's Log **

**Day 10, Month 4, Year 3042**

****

****

**I said here once that I was attracted to Leia. I lied. That's not true. Or at least, it's not true anymore.  
  
There is some new policy out, saying that we "unofficial" soldiers do not get the same treatment as the rest of this sorry group. That means no rescues, no hospital. Damn, we don't even get to eat the food or drink the water!  
  
Probably some kind of plot to get us all to join. I'd bet that Leia herself came up with the damn thing, out of spite for me. (The woman still hasn't gotten over that whole Sweethearts Day thing. Kest, its been nine days.) For a rebellion fighting against the Empire, this is a pretty imperial policy.  
  
Well, I hope she's happy; I'm leaving. I don't care what Chewie says. I don't care about my conscience; I'll burry it myself if I have to. Hell, I'd write it a eulogy if I thought it'd help.  
  
Take that, Princess.** ****

* * *

  
  
**Message sent at 1345 hours, Day 10, Month 4, Year 3042**  
  
Captain Han Solo,  
  
We request that you should go on a supply run to Ord Requet. Our contact will meet you in the town of Pquan on the south side of the planet. You must leave in three days time, on Day 13, Month 4.  
The High Council

* * *

**Message sent at 1423 hours, Day 10, Month 4, Year 3042**  
  
Princess,  
  
Hey, it's me, Marcer Kit. Remember? The girl from supply? I gave you that dress to wear for the Yavin 4 ceremony, because you had no clothes?  
  
Anyways, me and the girls heard about what happened on Sweethearts Day. You know, with Solo and Gin? Well we decided that you needed some an estrogen boost. So we would like it if you could come over to my quarters for a girl's night in. You know, like a female welcome to the rebellion?  
  
Then again, you fought with us before.... never mind.  
  
We know the welcome is about a month late but we would like you to come.

M.K.

* * *

_Journal of Princess Leia Organa _

_11th Day, 4th Month, 3042nd Year_

__

_I hate large groups of women.  
  
Whenever women are together, their cruelty increases threefold. It's is like the feed off each other's brutality. It can be rather frightening.  
  
I wonder if I get nastier in a large group. I asked Han that and he said, no, it was impossible for me to get nastier. But he smiled as he was saying it, making me forget he was insulting me. They always make me forget, his smiles.  
  
I'm back on speaking terms with Han, and partly because of those brutality- feeding powder puffs. I guess they are good for something.  
  
Marcer Kit, also know as M.K., invited me to her quarters so I could meet "the girls." She was the one who lent me the dress I wore for the Yavin 4 cerimony. I remember her being very nervous. Every sentence that woman spoke had a question mark on the end. I was not surprised to realize it was the same in her message. Papa always said people who asked too many questions had no mind of their own. I wonder if that applies here.  
  
Well, when I first got the invitation I was fairly tired of masculinity, so I accepted. Besides, I remembered thinking, 'I never had many girlfriends. This is a chance to change that.' I conveniently forgot that the reason I didn't have many female friends in the past was because I couldn't stand my own sex. Especially in large masses.  
  
Oh, Leia. When will you ever learn?  
  
But off I went at 2100 hours to M.K.'s quarters. Before the door had fully cycled open a group of mud-masked, toe-polished, hair-rollered life forms (who the universe so deceiving refers to as female humans) grabbed me and spirited me away to the world of fake nails and curlers.  
  
At first it was alright. I lived through all of six different hairstylings, four mud-masks, two manicures, and a partool in pear tree. Then we were all told to "dawn our pajamas, and settle on the couch" because we would be watching a holo-vid.  
  
Uh-oh.  
  
You see, my pajamas consist of an Alliance-issue tank top and boxers. Now, that's all well and good and certainly less revealing than what most of the others were wearing, but I forgot one thing: you can part of my back when I'm wearing it.  
  
About halfway through the holo-vid, someone poked me.  
  
Her: What's with your back, girl?  
  
Me:  
  
Her: Hey Graci, look at her back.  
  
Graci: Whoa, girl. What is that? Her M.K., come see.  
  
Soon there was a little crowd of girls all gathered around looking at my back. Or, more particularly, my spine.  
  
I new exactly what they were looking at; the tiny marks along my spinal cord, made by the probe droids puncturing me with their needles. But I wasn't about to tell them that.  
  
I left pretty fast. I can't even remember what my excuse was. Maybe I simply forgot to give one. I was scared. Scared that they would find out about the torture, find out that I was different, not like them. Find out that I scream and shake after seeing pictures of Darth Vader. Find out that I need a therapist to help me go on.  
  
I didn't know where to go. I was in a daze, so I instinctively headed for the Falcon. Luke had told me earlier that he was going over to see Han that night. But I didn't really want to see Luke. I needed Han; Han, to make a joke about "stupid broads"; Han, to argue with and forget about everything; Han, to smile crookedly at me.  
  
He must have seen me coming because he was waiting for me at the top of the ramp. I can't for the life of me remember what we said, all I know is his eyes were beautiful and that they roamed over me, standing there in my pajamas. But somehow, like always, we ended up fighting about some trivial matter. As I turned to leave he grabbed my hand, and the next thing I knew I was in his arms, clinging to him, crying.  
  
When I was done, he invited me inside for a drink. Over Corellian whiskey, I hesitantly asked Han if I could sleep in the spare cot. I told him it was because I afraid to walk to my quarters in nothing but my pajamas. But that's not true. I was afraid of the nightmares I would surely have back in my own bed. Alone.  
  
He laughed and said I would have to share a bed with someone because Luke was zonked out on the spare cot. I mirrored his laugh and told him that was fine. Our conversation continued on, but I knew we were both wondering who I would sleep with.  
  
When we both agreed that it was time to turn in (at three in the morning, no less), I excused myself to the fresher. I returned to the bunk room to find that Han was already in bed. I was debating who to sleep beside when Han made the decision for me:  
  
"Your going to sleep next to Luke, aren't you."  
  
I was surprised, so I asked him what gave him that idea. He looked a little sheepish as he answered:  
  
"Well. You know. It was what you did on the trip to Yavin 4..." He had a point, I had slept in the same bed with Luke on that trip. But that was because I had trusted him more than Han, and he was younger, so there was less chance of him doing anything worth objecting to. However last night, Han was looking a lot more appealing than a snoring, drooling Luke. That was all. That was the only reason I did what I did.  
  
"Move over flyboy."  
  
Luke must have been pretty shocked when he woke up in the morning. But he, being dear, sweet Luke, didn't say a thing.  
  
Actually, now that I am looking back, Han could have always slept next to Luke. Funny how we didn't think of it at the time. So now Han and I have called a truce, of sorts. For the time being, anyways.  
  
You know, for a person who didn't know how to address an entry at the start of this journal, I have come along way.  
  
I think I'll fire my therapist for doing this to me._

_

* * *

_

**Falcon Log **

**Day 15, Month 4, Year 3042**

****   
  
**Attraction is back in full force, and my conscience didn't like the eulogy.  
  
It's not entirely my fault; a man has his limits. As it turns out, Leia in her pajamas is not within those limits. And sleeping next to Leia in her pajamas, listening to her sigh and turn, completely blew those limits to hell.  
  
So that is why I am here, in the middle of running a supply run for the Alliance. Kest, they could ask me to fly to one of the nine hells of Corellia and I would do it at this point.  
  
A couple nights ago, after Luke had done a face plant into my spare bunk, Leia showed up the ramp of the Falcon. And she was in pajamas. Pajamas!!!  
  
All that pretty Leia-skin had me speechless for a while. That is until I realized that she was standing there talking to me about the supply run I had been requested to go on, and whether or not I was going to do it.  
  
What. The. Hell.  
  
She shows up in the middle of the night and talks to me about a supply run? Gods, I will never understand women.  
  
Before my frazzled brain could register the fact that there were tears in those big eyes of hers, I had put my foot in my mouth. I said something along the lines of "I ain't goin on any supply run, thanks to your damn new policy" except with more swearing. Leia turned around and started to storm away. But I just couldn't let her go like that, so I grabbed her hand.  
  
Somehow she ended up in my arms. Leia. Her High and Mightiness, Her Worship, in my arms. Crying.  
  
Not that I'm complaining.  
  
I whispered comforting things into her hair, which was down for the first time since I had met her. It smelled wonderful.  
  
I brought her inside and got her what looked like a much-needed drink. You know, looking back on all we talked about that night, I never once found out why she was there, why she was so upset.  
  
About halfway through our conversation Leia looks up at me and asks timidly if she could sleep on the Falcon that night. Did you catch that? I said she asked timidly. Leia Organa and timid just don't go in the same sentence. Sith, I wonder what happened to her that night. It must have been bad.  
  
I said yes, obviously. It's probably immoral, or something, to let an emotionally drained and slightly tipsy (Hey, it's not my fault she kept drinking the whiskey. She coulda said no when I poured it) woman sleep in the same room as you. But it wasn't as if I was trying to get her drunk enough to let me make love to her.  
  
But, you know, if she insisted, what can a guy do?  
  
(Turns out she didn't insist. I guess a guy can only get so lucky in one night.)  
  
Leia had to decide who she was going to sleep with, cause Luke was still snoring away on the spare bunk. I made a comment on that, saying that she was probably going to sleep with Luke. She turned towards me and asked me what made me say that. Truth be told I have no idea why I said it. I guess because she slept with Luke on the way to Yavin 4. At least, that's what I told her.  
  
Leia then proceeded to tell me to shove over and climbed in next to me.  
  
Obviously, someone up there controlling things likes me.  
  
I didn't sleep at all that night, I just stared at her. I had to restrain myself from pulling her into my arms and burying my face in her hair. And I have excellent restraint, if I do say so myself.  
  
After all, I only did it four times that night.  
  
Leia is a very sound sleeper.  
  
Hang on, we're being followed by this strange ship. I have to go help Chew-**

* * *

**Meeting** **Transcript:** On the Subject of the Capture of Captain Han Solo  
  
Declaration: We can only determine, at this time, that Captain Han Solo has been captured by the imperials.

* * *

I know, I know, evil cliffie! 

Tell me what you think.


	6. All's Fair in Love and Debating

**All right folks, the second part of Unofficial Status. But first:**

**Hi, again!: **Hey, I read your post over at TF.net. Don't worry, I'll hurry up over there, but we'll probably always be ahead here. And your damn right Luke and Leia ignore it!

**Clare: **Your reading this at one in the morning!! Wow, I guess I should fell flattered. Thank you for the nice review!

**Kazzy: **Thank you very much!! Leia is actually the easiest to write because I made her writing style the same as mine. And she's the only girl!

**LadySephiroth: **Thank you!

**Pokey1984: **You woke up and your brother was in bed with you! Hah! Thank you for the review, and I'm glad you find it funny.

**Vorquellyn: **Thank you! There is more Wes in this one too.

**Sithspawn-13:** Congratulations on your new name!! Thanks for pointing out the Rieekan Reekin thing. I knew there was an "a" somewhere...

**liz: **Thank you!

**PrincessSkywalkerOrgana: **Thank you! And Luke isn't drooling in this chapter!

**Spell Checker: **Uh... thanks for pointing that out.

** : **I'm glad it makes you grin!

So now, folks, on to the story!

**

* * *

Transcript of Debate Subject:** Whether or not to rescue Captain Han Solo 

Typed up by Wes Janson (The usual typist came down with a Boolarian Cold)

**Mon Mothma (looking over typists shoulder):** You don't need to write that down Jason. We don't care who's typing this up. Wait, why are writing what I'm saying? The debate hasn't even started. Stop that. Stop it now!  
  
**Janson:** I was told to type everything.  
  
**Mon Mothma:** How exactly can you type and talk at the same time.  
  
**Janson:** You didn't hire me to do this for nothing.  
  
**Mon Mothma:** I didn't hire you. You volunteered. Now type up the summary.  
  
(She positions herself by the shoulder of the typist, seemingly to read what he is typing.)  
  
Captain Han Solo, pilot of the Millennium Falcon, left on a supply run for the Alliance to Ord Requet on Day 13, Month 4, Year 3042. He was to meet and Alliance contact, who shall remain anonymous, in the town of Pquan. The contact has stated that he did indeed meet with Captain Solo, and the supply trade was carried out. Captain Solo was last in contact with the Alliance on Day 15, Month 4, Year 3042. The sector of space he was in reportedly had many imperial fighters lurking around.  
  
Senator/Princess Leia Organa believes that we should rescue Captain Solo. However, Supreme Commander Mon Mothma believes that the Rebellion is not responsible for Captain Solo. She claims this is because of the recent Unofficial Status, which stated that the Rebellion will not rescue any soldiers that are not officially joined. (It is, if I may say, a fat load of sh-  
  
**Mon Mothma (Still peering over shoulder of typist):** No, you may not say.  
  
This debate will be held to help the Alliance come up with a decision. The debate would not have been held, however Pilot Luke Skywalker and Senator/Princess Leia Organa threatened to take a ship and leave themselves. In an effort to stop this, Supreme Commander Mon Mothma decided to hold this debate.  
  
**Mon Mothma (Still peering over typist's shoulder. The woman is determined):** You can't write that down. Who told you that?  
  
**Janson:** Luke.  
  
Members of the High Council are beginning to file into the room, which until now was empty except for Mon Mothma and this humble typist. General Jan Dodonna looks troubled as he sits down at the far end of the table, away from typist and Mon Mothma. Senator/Princess Leia Organa and Pilot Luke Skywalker enter after the General. The Princess is holding Luke's hand (lucky bastard) and appears furious. Luke looks rather worried. The two sit down beside this typist.  
  
**Skywalker:** Hey, Wes.  
  
**Janson:** Hey Luke, Leia.  
  
**Princess Leia:** You know, I don't think you're supposed to type what we're saying.  
  
**Janson:** Oh well.  
  
**Skywalker:** You type very fast.  
  
**Janson:** Thanks.  
  
During this exchange the rest of the Council entered the room and have seated themselves around the table. Mon Mothma stands-  
  
**Mon Mothma:** As you all know we are gathered here to debate on whether or not we send out ships to rescue Captain Han Solo of the Millennium Falcon.  
  
Captain Solo is an unofficial member of the Alliance. Because of the recent policy regarding Unofficial Status, it is not the Alliance's duty to come to the aid of the Captain. I see no need for this debate.  
  
**Princess Leia (Standing up. Oh dear, she looks angry.):** That was ridiculous policy, degrading and unfair to our many unofficial members. It would be immoral not to rescue the Captain.  
  
**Rieekan:** I agree. But there is also the factor that the Captain could give away our position if he is not rescued. It would be completely senseless not to attempt a rescue.  
  
**Dodonna:** Yes, but there is also the possibility that the rescue attempt will fail. Besides, if we rescue the Captain, we will have to revoke the policy.  
  
**Skywalker (Angrily):** Hey, I'm all in favor of that.  
  
**Mon Mothma:** Please. There is no way we are revoking the policy.  
  
**Skywalker:** Why not? It's a stupid policy. (He has an excellent point)  
  
Princess Leia puts a hand on Luke's arm, probably to restrain him. All well and good, but who will restrain her?  
  
**Princess Leia:** I agree. It was a hastily put together policy, made in a desperate effort to save credits. I don't see why we should- 

**Dodonna (Speaking over her. The lack of manners in this place.):** Even if we revoke the policy it would take days. Solo could be dead by then.  
  
**Mon Mothma:** I would like to point out that the Princess and Skywalker have slightly biased views on this subject.  
  
**Princess Leia (Damn, she's mad now):** Oh that is such a-  
  
**Mon Mothma (Poor Leia, no one's letting her talk):** Are you not two of Solo's closest friends?  
  
Silence. Sounds like a stalemate.  
  
Well, actually, probably the only reason Leia hasn't replied is that Skywalker has put a hand over her mouth.  
  
Rieekan leans over and whispers in her ear, and Skywalker takes his hand away. (She probably bit it.) Leia's face lights up, and she smiles.  
  
**Princess Leia:** Actually, Mon Mothma, I think you'd better send out those ships now. You see, I didn't put my signature on the form saying the Alliance is not responsible for the Captain.  
  
**Mon Mothma:** But I have it right here, and it is most certainly-  
  
**Princess Leia (Talking over her. Go Leia!):** That's not my signature, its Rieekan's. I asked him to forge my signature.  
  
**Mon Mothma:** Is this true, Rieekan?  
  
Rieekan nodes his head.  
  
**Dodonna (Looking relieved):** Well, that settles it. We'll send out fighter planes to rescue Captain Solo. I'll revoke the policy as soon as possible. Never did like it much.  
  
**Janson:** Can I stop now?  
  
**Princess Leia (Smiling):** Yes. You can.

* * *

**Base Hospital: Patient Log  
**  
**Name of Patient:** Solo, Han 

**Injuries:** Slight Concussion

**Cause of Injuries:** Hit in the head with blaster.

* * *

_Journal of Princess Leia Organa _

_19th Day, 4th Month, 3042nd Year_

_He's alright, he's alright, he's alright!  
  
Han's alright.  
  
He was captured by the imperials. Turns out that they didn't know that he was with the Alliance, they just thought that he was smuggling spice. It was fairly easy for Wedge to convince them that we were the authorities, and that we would take care of the arrest. As for Han himself, he's back to normal, complaining about being in the hospital.  
  
But I can't get over how frightened I was when I found out he was captured.  
  
I was so frightened it scared me, which makes no sense.  
  
At my last session my therapist asked me about it. She had all these crazy theories about it, one being that I was afraid to let people get close to me because of what happened to Alderaan. She thinks I'm afraid to form close relationships because I'm afraid my loved ones will die.  
  
Doesn't sound that insane to me. After all, we're in the middle of a war here. People are dying left, right, and center. Which means this isn't the best time to, say, fall in love.  
  
I'm afraid that I'm doing just that; falling. Falling fast. And if I don't remain indifferent, I'll fall so far I'll never be able to catch myself. Stop myself. I'm afraid if I continue on this way, I'll eventually hit the ground.  
  
Because you can't keep falling forever without hitting something.  
  
Then again, I could be wrong. I've never been in love before._ _

* * *

_  
  
**Falcon Ship Log **

**Day 20, Month 4, Year 3042**

**I really hate imperials.  
  
Idiots, they couldn't even figure out that I was with the rebellion. So what do they do; they hit me over the head with a blaster.  
  
I can't really remember too much after that, considering I was unconscious. When I woke up I was in base hospital, and guess who was sitting in a chair beside me, asleep.  
  
Leia Organa.  
  
Pretty nice scene to wake up to. Especially since those ugly imperials were the last thing I saw. But I had to wonder:  
  
Why.  
  
In.  
  
Hell.  
  
Was.  
  
I.  
  
There.  
  
I mean, what about the new policy? Whatever happened to that? Was I dead? Was I in heaven? It could be, for all the white.  
  
But with Leia so close and looking so peaceful, I kinda forgot about all that.  
  
I got to lie there for all of an hour enjoying the view. Damn, that woman is beautiful. Then Luke, Wes, and Wedge came in. While Leia slept on, they explained what had happened. Turns out, over a technically, Leia saved my life.  
  
Well how bout that?  
  
You know, I can always leave in a couple of weeks.**

**

* * *

**  
**Message sent at 2108 hours, Day 21, Month 4, Year 3042**  
  
Come one, come all, and place your bets on the Princess and the Pirate. There are four categories in which you can place your bet, and here they are. You may change your bet at any time.  
  
Here are the categories:  
  
1. They Will Kill Each Other Within a Week (Two Weeks, Three Weeks – You Pick)  
  
2. Between The Sheets In a Week (Two Weeks, Three Weeks – You Pick)  
  
3. Kill Each Other Within a Day (Two Days, Three Days – You Pick)  
  
4. Between The Sheets In a Day (Two Days, Three Days – You Pick) 

Wes Jason


	7. Illegal Parties Have Their Uses

**Hello one and all!**

**Pitdroid: **Option 2, eh? We'll see...

**muffinnatalie: **Thank you!! But I would rather marry Han than Janson...

**ninjamonkey: **Crazy people are often loveable!

**Kazzy: **Thank you! You give such long reviews! I really look forward to reading them!

**Vorquellyn: **Thank you!

**Barefoot Contessa:** Thank you!

**Pokey1984: **A bit short? Hers's a longer one for you! Thanks for the review.

**Sithspawn-13: **Thank you for pointing out the spelling mistake. It's not annoying, it's helpful.

: Thank you!

**Hello again: **He's in even more trouble now!!

**Ann: **Thank you! And I hope it will go across all three movies.

**Lioma-Formerly Darth Flirt: **2 to 4 weeks, huh? Well...

**Off we go..**

**

* * *

**

**Message sent at 0600 hours, Day 5, Month 5, Year 3042**  
  
ATTENTION REBELS:  
  
There is a small beach just south of our current base location that has the potential to be a perfect landing site for our ships. However, we need it cleared before we can begin to build. All who wish to be part of a special cleaning crew may sign up on the sheet outside supply.  
  
The High Council

* * *

**Clean-up Sign-up Sheet  
**  
1. Darth Vader 

2. Palpatine

3. Darth Palpy

* * *

**Message sent at 0600 hours, Day 6, Month 5, Year 3042  
**  
ATTENTION REBELS:  
  
The lack of the response to the cleaning sign up sheet is disgraceful. We cannot defeat the Empire if we qualm at the simple task of picking wood up off a beach. The clean-up date is officially set for Day 8, Month 5. For those of you who cannot count or clean, that gives you beings two days to sign up. If there are no signatures on it by that time, we will be forced to start picking people.  
  
The High Council

* * *

**Message sent at 0741 hours, Day 6, Month 5, Year 3042  
**  
ATTENTION, ATTENTION, ATTENTION, 

Wes Janson is speaking.

For all those who are interested, there is to be a beach party on Day 8. There will be music, dancing, and girls in bikinis. What more can you ask?  
  
Your ticket in is your signature on the cleanup crew. Don't worry though; the beach will be cleaned long before the first partygoers arrive. So come one, come all, and remember, keep this secret from the bigs.  
  
Janson, Wes Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 1004 hours, Day 6, Month 5, Year 3042**  
  
Mon Mothma,  
  
Congratulations on such an inspiring message. You certainly guilted our soldiers into responding. I have never seen so many people sign up. 

J. Dodonna

* * *

**Message sent at 0902 hours, Day 7, Month 5, Year 3042**  
  
Hey Leia, are you gonna go to the party tomorrow?  
-Solo

* * *

**Message sent at 0904 hours, Day 7, Month 5, Year 3042**  
  
Han, feel lucky I didn't report it. 

Leia

* * *

**Message sent at 0907 hours, Day 7, Month 5, Year 3042**  
  
Aw, come on, Your Worship. Luke's gonna be there. It'll be fun.  
  
-Solo

* * *

**Message sent at 0909 hours, Day 7, Month 5, Year 3042**  
  
Han, what'll be fun is my fist connecting with your jaw if you keep this up.  
  
Leia

* * *

**Message sent at 0910 hours, Day 7, Month 5, Year 3042  
**  
Please!  
-Solo

* * *

**Message sent at 0911 hours, Day 7, Month 5, Year 3042  
**  
If only to shut you up...  
  
Leia

* * *

**Message sent at 0913 hours, Day 7, Month 5, Year 3042  
**  
See ya there, Sweetheart.  
  
-Solo

* * *

**Watch Log **

**2021 hours, Day 8, Month 5, Year 3042  
**

It is strangely quiet around the corridors tonight.

* * *

_Journal of Princess Leia Organa _

_9th Day, 5th Month, 3042nd Year_

_Perhaps illegal parties have their uses. However, having the entire base hung over this morning, myself included, is certainly not one of them.  
  
Still, it was fun. Just like Han said.  
  
He and Luke met up with me outside my quarters and we walked to the beach together. When we got there the party was already in full swing; people were dancing everywhere and there were even a few swimming. Somehow, Wes had gotten a whole bar out there on the sand. Complete with stools!  
  
Han suggested we head over that way, but when I looked back at Luke he was staring openmouthed at the lake.  
  
"I've never seen so much in one place. Where did it come from?"  
  
We had forgotten that the moisture farmer from Tatoonie had never seen so much moisture. Han told him jokingly that he could swim in it, and Luke promptly ran into the water. Han and I exchanged a mock-exasperated look. Then he pulled me down to the sand to sit with our feet in the water and watch Luke's attempts at swimming. It felt nice sitting there with Han. Comfortable. It almost seemed as if we were two parents watching our over- exuberant child play.  
  
"Come on guys! Come in!"  
  
I will forever blame Luke for putting that idea in Han's head.  
  
I will forever blame Han for what he did.  
  
Before I could so much as squawk, Han had dumped me into the water, clothes and all. Then he jumped in after me. I was initially pretty miffed, but it's fairly hard to stay angry with Han Solo carrying you around in the water. They passed me around; I went from Han to Luke to Wes to Wedge, both who joined us in the water. I felt like everyone's favorite toy. Somehow, I always ended up in Han's arms. It was almost like the rest of the men were giving me up to him, like they knew something that we didn't. It was strange. However, I must admit I preferred that. I preferred Han. He was the most gentle with me.  
  
After the swim we moved on to the bar, and the rest of the evening is an alcohol-induced blur. Though, I do remember dancing with Han. Dancing on the beach's edge. Half in, half out of the water.  
_

* * *

**Falcon Ship Log **

**Day 9, Month 5, Year 3042  
**

**Waking up with a splitting headache and remembering nothing is a bad experience. Waking up with a splitting headache and remembering a wet Leia with her clothes plastered to her body is a good experience. A very good experience indeed.  
  
The party was great. I gotta remember to congratulate Wes.  
  
I really can't believe I convinced Leia to come. Sith, that women is determined to have as little fun as possible. But it was worth it. Boy was it ever!  
**  
**I actually got to carry her around in the water, hold her close while she shouted things at Wes for dunking her, see her smile and put her arms around my neck. For support only, of course.  
  
Then later, when we were both more than a little drunk, she let me dance with her and breathe in the scent of her hair.  
  
Damn it all to hell; I am in it deep. This women is way outta my league. Back off buddy! I have to do something about this.  
**

* * *

**Message sent at 0957 hours, Day 9, Month 5, Year 3042**  
  
Results for the betting:  
  
**THEY WILL KILL EACHOTHER WITHIN A WEEK:** 1 bet  
  
**BETWEEN THE SHEETS WITHIN A WEEK:** 24 bets  
  
**THEY WILL KILL EACHOTHER IN A DAY:** 0 bets  
  
**BETWEEN THE SHEETS IN A DAY:** 52 bets  
  
Hmmm... I wonder if Han knows he'll be bedding a princess...  
  
Wes Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 1143 hours, Day 10, Month 5, Year 3042**

Hey Wes, can you change my bet to the third option?

Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 1145 hours, Day 10, Month 5, Year 3042**

Whatever for?

Wes

* * *

Message sent at 1146 hours, Day 10, Month 5, Year 3042

Come on Wes. Surely you can hear the shouting.

Luke

* * *

_Journal of Princess Leia Organa_

_10th Day, 5th Month, 3042nd Year_

_I hate him. And I hate flour!_

_My clothes are absolutely ruined!_

* * *

**Falcon Ship Log**

**Day 10, Month 5, Year 3042**

**I'm bantha-brained!**

**That's what Leia called me today; bantha brained. I guess this is what refusing to swear does to a person; you're forced to come up with new insults so you make up some of your own. **

**I think that Leia covered in flour shouting custom-made insults at me is the sexiest thing I have ever seen. **

**You've got to have some imagination to come up with names like that. I told her that she could patent some of them and make a fortune. At which point she threw some of the batter at me. After I had gotten out of the direct line of fire, I asked her why she had done that. She told me it was retaliation.**

**It's not as if I meant to pour flour over her. Her fault she got in the way.**

**She had come over earlier today, for no reason at all. I was making Correlian Tques, so she sat on the counter to watch.**

**I guess I wasn't paying attention.**

**I guess I got distracted, looking at her.**

**Sith, whatever it was, I got flour on her. Just a harmless bit of flour!**

**Then she threw some of the batter. After that, all hell broke loose. So now I'm sitting here writing this, covered in flour and batter and, I think, some salt. Now where did that come from?**

**Leia left a while ago, looking like the abominable snow creature. Except shorter. She was smiling as she left.**

**In all the time I've known her I've never seen her smile as much as she did today.**


	8. Anonymous Soldiers

**Hey all! Sorry this took so long to post up. It's extra long though.**

**GreatOne:** Thank you! You've been a great support.

**suze: **Thanks!

**Kazzy:** Imagining flour covered characters? Hmm..

Thank you for the review!

**Frogboy Lives: **Thank you!

**Tinuviel Undomiel: **Thank you!

**PrincessSkywalker:** Thank you!

**Abbi and Ali: **Thank you!

**Sithspawn-13: **Thank you!

**Lioma: **Thank you!

**Em: **Thank you!

**Pitdroid: **Thank you!

**Vorquellyn:** Thank you!

**SailorLeia: **Thank you!

**liz: **Thank you!

**Pokey1984: **Too true!

**PrincessSkywalker: **Thank you!

** : **Thank you!

Wow, that was alot of Thank You's!

* * *

**Message sent at 0600 hours, Day 23, Month 8, Year 3042  
**  
ATTENTION REBELS:  
  
We need volunteers for a mission to Keailon. Preferably a male and female human, as Keailon's main population is humanoid. They will also need to fairly competent actors as they will be posing as a couple.  
  
The High Council

* * *

**Message sent at 1550 hours, Day 23, Month 8, Year 3042  
**  
Wes, man, it's been four months since you came out with that betting pool, and still no action. You said this was a sure thing! If Han and Leia _are_ together, they are keeping a low profile. As in below-the-ground low. Hobbie and me have decided that you did this on purpose. Come on, as a bookie, how much money have you made now? You are such a-  
  
Hey Wes. That was Wedge, this is Hobs, and I have a message for you too:  
  
I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!!!  
  
I owe everyone credits, including you. Like Wedge said, we were talking about you and how many credits have gone down the toilet because of your half-assed scheme. We have come to the conclusion that the only way this can be redeemed is if we tell Han what you did. Oh don't worry, Wesy boy, we'll come and burry what's left.  
  
Fix this.  
  
Wedge and Hobbie

* * *

**Message sent at 1554 hours, Day 23, Month 8, Year 3042  
**  
Guys, guys, guys.  
  
Don't worry. I'll make sure they get together. Have faith; I asked Luke about it and he told me that even though they still fight, there is definitely something there. You got that?  
  
They like each other.  
  
Come on, you've seen the way Han looks at Leia when she goes by, the way he brushes up against her as the walk through the halls. Not to mention the way Leia runs to be the first to hug him when he gets back from a supply run, the way she gives him smiles on the sly. And we've all seen them fight. Guys, people fight that much for only two reasons; they hate each others' guts, or there is some unresolved sexual tension there. You all know what my money's on.  
  
Besides, they've been dancing around each other for five months. We just need to give them a little push.  
  
Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 1556 hours, Day 23, Month 8, Year 3042**  
  
Talk to us Janson. What do you have in mind?  
  
Hobs and Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 1557 hours, Day 23, Month 8, Year 3042  
**  
Did anyone read the High Council message today?  
  
Nevermind. Stupid question.  
  
Come over here, I think I have a plan.  
  
Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 1634 hours, Day 23, Month 8, Year 3042**  
  
Mon Mothma,  
  
The Princess Leia and myself would be very happy to go on the mission to Keailon.  
  
Han Solo

* * *

**Message sent at 1821 hours, Day 23, Month 8, Year 3042  
**  
Wes,  
  
Wedge told me about your plan and showed me the message, and let me tell you, it's not going to work. For starters, Han does not write like that. And what do you think he's going to do when he finds out you guys wrote that message?  
  
Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 1825 hours, Day 23, Month 8, Year 3042**  
  
You know Luke, for someone who believes in the Force, you sure don't have that much faith. Rieekan said he would just ask them to go on the mission (The kind of asking which is really more like a demand. I find Rieekan excels at that.), without telling them they had supposedly already volunteered. Turns out Rieekan has been trying to get them together for a while. All we have to do is make sure they don't meet up with Mon Mothma and it's all go. Besides, you're betting on this too. Don't you go all innocent-farm boy on me.  
  
Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 1827 hours, Day 23, Month 8, Year 3042  
**  
I feel sorry for Han and Leia. The whole base is trying to set them up.  
  
Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 1827 hours, Day 23, Moth 8, Year 3042  
**  
Poor bastards. They don't stand a chance.  
  
Janson

* * *

_Journal of Princess Leia Organa _

_24th Day, 8th Month, 3042nd Year_

_I have chosen to studiously ignore Captain Solo for this whole mission. I will also refrain from using his first name, and avoid his presence.  
  
(Which is just a classy way to state that: a] Han and I had an argument, and b] That I am now childishly hiding in his cabin.)  
  
I will now cease to write about him.  
  
We're en route to Keailon, for what looks to be a very simple mission. We are to pose as a married couple, and I am supposed to be a distant cousin to our contact. She and her husband have two children, so we must act like a couple inside the house as well. (Oh sith!) The children have not been told that their parents are involved with us, for fear of a leak. We are not to be told their names, for safety reasons.  
  
Our contacts will tell us of the imperial movement in their town, so we can plan an attack on the small base they have there. It appears to be a weapons manufacturing plant, so it would be imperative to our future batt-  
  
Oh, it is simply impossible to ignore Han! He's walking by the cabin door every two minutes, banging loudly on the walls. I believe... Oh gods... I think... he's singing now! Next thing you know he'll be in here, pulling my hair.  
  
It's charming, really. To know he cares enough to keep bugging me.  
  
It was a silly fight, the one we had. Over sleeping arrangements! I came aboard and dumped my stuff on his bed. I assumed that I would sleep in his cabin, like I always do when I am in the Falcon. Han followed me into the room, smirking, half of his face smiling. I asked him what he was looking at, and he said "Hey sweetheart, we don't have to play married couple yet, but if you insist..."  
  
At which point, I, understandably, exploded at him. In my defense, I'd been having a pretty rough day. In fact, a lot of it has been spent wondering how exactly I was supposed to play housewife to _Han Solo_, of all people. Would it be awkward?  
  
But what I was really worried about was that I would like it too much. Get too used to it, not want to stop playacting and go back to real life.  
  
Han, sensible man that he is, left the cabin pretty quick. I locked myself in and have been in here ever since.  
  
Sith. Han just came to the door and said, in this sweet, little boy whine:  
  
"Aw, come on sweetheart. Am I forgiven yet? I could sing another bar, if you want."  
  
I will be strong, I am an independent woman, I am furious with this man, I will not say yes, I will resi-  
  
I told him he was forgiven. (My independence, my strength, abandoned ship together. All that's left in their place is a quivering mess of hormones, and a note saying that Leia has been detained for an uncertain amount of time.) He came in here. We actually had a decent conversation, for once.  
  
And now he's reading over my shoulder as I type this in. Go away, Han.  
  
I am Leia Organa and I want to kiss Han Solo because he is so-  
  
That was Han; he tackled me and wrote that. GO AWAY.  
  
He left. But he'll be back. I wonder how much of this he saw. He couldn't have seen the hormones part, because I scrolled down when he came in. Unless, of course, he scrolled up when he wrote that last bit...  
  
Sith.  
  
To make matters worse, we both have to sleep in here because Chewie gets his own room. Poor Chewie; while we're on the mission he has to sit in the Falcon and pretend he's part of the wall. At least, that's what Han said when I told Chewie it is imperative that no one knows he is with us. What I'm saying is; I think he's entitled to his own bunk.  
  
So Han will sleep in here, and I'll sleep in the spare bunk. I'm sitting here in my bunk, imagining what it'll be like to sleep across from him. It's so close I can reach out and touch his bunk, could touch him as he was sleeping, should I be so inclined.  
  
I'm glad he'll be sleeping so close. It makes me feel safe, knowing that. I don't like sleeping alone. Me, a politician who's afraid of nightmares, afraid of the dark. Leia, the princess who's afraid of her own demons.

* * *

_**Falcon Ship Log **

**Day 24, Month 8, Year 3042  
**

**This trip to Keailon has promise!  
  
It looks to be an easy get in and get out job, a chance be with Leia, and an excuse to kiss her in public, all rolled into one. There has to be a catch.  
  
Come to think of it, Rieekan had this funny look on his face as he was telling us about it. Maybe it's really a suicide mission, and no one told us! That would explain why Luke, Wes, Wedge, and Hobbie all came to wish me good luck...  
  
It's been goin' pretty good so far. Leia and me only had a tiny, little disagreement. Well, really, I provoked her and she screamed at me, but it's all better now.  
  
Don't know why I insist on doing that, teasing her like that. I guess it's nice to get a reaction from her, instead of all the cold shoulders. She gets all red in the face, sometimes from screaming at me, but mostly it's because I made a pass at her or something, and she's blushing. It's very pretty to look at. Then she'll try to cover it with snapping at me. But today I figured out another way to get that blush on her beautiful face. It's quite simple, actually; you just compliment her. Can't believe I haven't thought of it before.  
  
See, I opened the door to my cabin to call her out for dinner. Leia was all sprawled out reading something on a data-pad, and she looked so pretty. Musta been because she wasn't screwing up her face to scowl at me. So I said "Hey beautiful, dinner's ready." Normal thing for me to do, call her pet names. But when I look at Her Worship, she's blushing right to her toes. Took me a while, but I realized I had never called her that one before. And, bonus, it works every time. I've called her beautiful about three times now and it never fails to make her blush, stutter, and look at her feet. Jackpot!  
  
And damn, "Sweetheart" works even better.  
  
I also think that maybe she might like me, just a little bit. Earlier, when she first forgave me for provoking her, I came into the bunkroom. Leia was sitting there typing away at her data pad. I grabbed it, just to see if there was a mention of me in it. Turns out there was, and also something about me turning her into a mess of hormones. That was when she snatched it back and told me to go away, but there is hope! Sorta.  
  
Sith, I got it bad for this woman. And she's a princess! I'm not supposed to fall for princesses; they're supposed to fall for me.  
  
I might have to change the name of this thing. In no way is this a log. Damn it, the things women will do to you.

* * *

**  
  
**Message sent at 2254 hours, Day 26, Month 8, Year 3042  
**  
Base,  
  
Falcon has landed on Keailon.

* * *

**Message sent at 2305 hours, Day 26, Month 8, Year 3042**  
  
Base,  
  
Contact is here, met us at port.

* * *

_Journal of Princess Leia Organa _

_27th Day, 8th Month, 3042nd Year  
_

_Written in a strange bed sometime after midnight.  
  
I can't sleep. I'm beginning to wonder if I have insomnia. That would be a new topic for therapy sessions.  
  
In truth, the not-sleeping probably has more to do with the fact that Han is laying next to me. We had to keep up our rouse of husband and wife.  
  
When we got here, it was too late to do much but eat a quick meal and sleep. I don't know the names of our host and hostess, but they were very kind. The man met us at the port. On the trip to his home he told us the he and his wife were very happy to be able to help the rebellion. He also said I would have to act like a cousin to his wife because his two children were waiting up to meet us. Han and I exchanged glances at that.  
  
When we came through the door the woman embraced me. After I had introduced her to my "husband", using his false name, Tex, I looked down to see two small faces staring up at us.  
  
The children certainly were a handful! They were elated, both at seeing Han and I and at the prospect of staying up late. The little girl, the younger and bolder of the two, climbed into my lap during the quick dinner Han and I had. It has been quite a long time since I last played with children, but it came back to me quickly. I bounced her up and down on my knee, holding her sticky hands and breathing in her baby breath, and I found myself wanting children. Wanting a family.  
  
Han had a harder time with the boy, who was about five. He seemed to have developed an acute case of muteness, and Han was having a rather one-sided conversation.  
  
We somehow ended up on a couch in front of a holo-vision, watching the news. I was distracted from the conversation by my baby-bouncing. The girl was showing her appreciation by putting her arms around me neck and giving me sticky kisses. I'll admit; it was nice to have a fan, even if she was two years old.  
  
However, the news switched to a report on the rebellion. The woman made a dive more the turner to switch the channel, but not before her son finally spoke his first words since we had entered the house:  
  
"Dad, d'ya think we'll beat the rebels. I hate them."  
  
His mother shushed him, and glanced nervously at us. (Funny how I just refer to Han and myself as us. I shall have to break that habit.) I asked her to join me in the kitchen.  
  
When we entered I told her she'd better explain quick. She did. In a hushed whisper, with tears rolling down her face, she told me that in an imperial occupied city it was too dangerous for little children to have rebellious political notions. She said that a few years back a whole family had been killed because their son's teacher told the imperials that he had been saying rebellious things on the playground.  
  
"You don't know how hard it is. To watch your children grow up following those monsters."  
  
Maybe I was a fool to believe her, maybe we'll be killed in our sleep, maybe imperials are heading here right this minute - but somehow I don't think so. It makes sense to protect your children, even to that extreme.  
  
This is the reason we are fighting the Empire. So parents won't have to hand their children to the enemy in order to keep them safe. _

* * *

**Falcon Ship Log **

**Day 27, Month 8, Year 3042  
**

**Cub, I am write in this to improve my writing Basic.  
  
You write strange things in here. About the little princess. You know I think you should be mating.  
  
You will be angered with me for reading this. But I am bored and lonely.  
  
When you read, tell me how's my writing.  
** **

* * *

**_Journal of Princess Leia Organa _

_28th Day, 8th Month, 3042nd Year  
_

_Writing this in the same strange bed, wiping toothpaste out of my hair, but I'll explain that later.  
  
We should have left today, but we were delayed.  
  
Han and I spent the day idly. Our host and hostess gave us all the information we need to destroy the weapons factory here before breakfast, and we played with the children the rest of the day. My hands are tired from turning jump-ropes and playing hand games. Once, we even allowed ourselves to be cajoled into playing tag. But the children soon tired of it because Han and I only chased each other. It's addictive; running from someone, shrieking when they catch you, pin you in there arms, then let you go only to have the process reversed. I felt years younger.  
  
But all of it ended about an hour before we were supposed to leave. In truth, we were supposed to leave in the early morning, but our hostess said it would look too odd; arriving in the late night and leaving early in the morning. Now I wish we'd risked it.  
  
There was a knock at the door and the man went to answer it. Han and I froze and looked at each other. Our hostess urgently whispered to us that it was probably only storm troopers.  
  
Excuse me? Only storm troopers?!  
  
She told us that they came around to people houses and ate their food, rather than the rations served at their base. "Act natural," she hissed. "And you better not leave until they're gone. It'd look suspicious."  
  
And then twelve storm troopers strolled into the kitchen.  
  
Han and I were introduced as Mr. and Mrs. Kraits, and I spent the rest of the evening hoping, praying to whatever divine creator is out there that we wouldn't be discovered, all the while scurrying around getting bread, milk, and soup. For storm troopers!  
  
And I watched them. Watched the man try and strike up a conversation, watched his wife nervously hover around the table, never staying in one place for too long, watched the storm troopers eat and laugh. But most of all, I watched the children. Saw how the storm troopers joked with them, gave them little presents, did tricks for them. Saw the awe and adoration in the little ones' eyes. Adoration. For the enemy.  
  
Only then did I truly understand what the family was going through. What the parents had to experience, every day.  
  
When the imperials had left, the woman told us it would be too suspicious to leave now. So we stayed the night.  
  
Han and I were both subdued that night as we got ready for bed. Together. The previous night we were too tired to even think about what we were doing, and the implications. But last night...  
  
You could have practically reached out and touched the tension in the room. The bathroom was small and cramped, and every time we bumped arms reaching for a toothbrush or water glass, the most inappropriate thoughts raced through my mind. I was brushing my hair and trying to get my mind back on track, when I felt something wet hit my cheek. I looked at Han, busily brushing away at his teeth, then touched my face. My hand came away covered in toothpaste.  
  
Then I made a mistake.  
  
I wiped it off and smeared it on Han's bare arm.  
  
What ensued was predictable; a full scale war using toothpaste. I managed to seize the tube, and therefore should have won, but Han grabbed the shaving cream and chased me into the bedroom. He tackled me on the bed and sprayed it down my shirt. I squirted toothpaste into his eyes. Needless to say, the bed got quite sticky. When we both eventually ran out of ammunition (we used up all the toothpaste in the house, and I hope our host can shave dry), we lay on the bed, panting. We looked around the room, then grinned at each other like naughty children.  
  
We were forced to peel the sticky covers off the bed, so I'm freezing as I write this. Our impromptu war did have its advantages; there was no more tension between us as we tried to erase all evidence of our crime. We stuffed the sheets into the auto-valet to clean, and then crawled into bed together. Han gave me his shirt as a blanket, and every so often I sniff the sleeve and breathe in his scent.  
  
I think I may have to ask my therapist how to fall out of love with someone.

* * *

_**Falcon Ship Log **

**Day 28, Month 8, Year 3042  
**

**Cub, where you are? You should have come back. I will not look you yet, but you must come back soon.  
  
A wook can only write to no one for not long. **

* * *

**Message sent at 0745 hours, Day 30, Month 8, Year 3042**  
  
Dodonna,  
  
Look, you told me at the briefing that you blew up the weapons manufacturing plant, but what about the town around it?  
  
-Solo

* * *

**Message sent at 0756 hours, Day 30, Month 8, Year 3042  
**  
Captain, you have to understand that the blast could not have been contained without using very costly equipment. Equipment that we did not have. The town went up in the blast.  
  
Dodonna

* * *

**Message sent at 0757, Day 30, Month 8, Year 3042  
**  
You bastard. You had a contact there, damn it. Couldn't you have at least warned them to get out? You are no better than the imps.  
  
-Solo

* * *

**Message sent at 0803 hours, Day 30, Month 8, Year 3042  
**  
That's insubordination, Captain. If we told them they may have warned their friends. It could have been disastrous. Besides Solo, they were dangerous; they were not officially joined to the rebellion, they're children were supporters of the Empire, imperials were frequents at their house. Even you can admit that looks bad. The whole town was imperial.  
  
It was a regrettable decision, but nevertheless one had to be made. They knew too much about us, Solo.  
  
Dodonna

* * *

**Message sent at 0805 hours, Day 30, Month 8, Year 3042  
**  
You killed innocent men, women, and children.

* * *

**Message sent at 0808 hours, Day 30, Month 8, Year 3042  
**  
That's war, Solo.  
  
Dodonna

* * *

**Message sent at 0809 hours, Day 30, Month 8, Year 3042  
**  
Go to hell, Dodonna.

* * *

_Journal of Princess Leia Organa _

_30th Day, 8th Month, 3042nd Year  
_

_They're dead.  
  
Our contacts, their children. The blue-eyed little girl. The tousle- haired little boy.  
  
All dead, because of a mistake.  
  
When the squad blew up the base, the blast was supposed to be contained. But somehow it got out, burned up the whole town as they slept.  
  
Mon Mothma is keeping it very quiet, pretending they planned it that way. Can let the troops know we make mistakes. I'm being forced to keep it to myself as well. I wish I could tell Han; he's furious.  
  
I wanted to do something for the dead family. What we used to do for dead pets, as children on Alderaan, was write their names on a piece of loose leaf then rip it up and throw it into the wind. I was going to do that for the family, when I realized I don't even know their names. So I wrote:  
  
The Anonymous Soldiers  
  
Then I tore it up and threw the pieces out my window. I watched them float down to the ground, little white specs. _


	9. Author's Note

**Hello one and all!**

**Now, I realize that the last post was rather sad. Sorry, my muse went through a bit of hormone swing. :p But don't worry; she's happy now so expect lots of humour.**

**Ord Mantell. What do you guys think should happen there? I'm thinking some romance before the bounty hunter. Some people say there was a kiss... Thoughts?**

**LL**

****


	10. Fresherology

**Gasp!! I'm baaaaaaacccckkk!**

**Hello one and all! Did you miss me? ****Sorry about the lack of an update; bit of writer's block. All better now! :D**

**On to business. Alright, many people seem confused as to where we are on the timeline. We are exactly one year after ANH, so that means two more untill ESB. The posts so far have been close together on the timeline, around a day or two apart. Now they're going to farther apart.**

**So happy fourth of July!! I would also like to note the we have a hundred reviews!! Thank you one and all!**

**Mara-look-alike: **Thank you for my hundredth review!

**Vorquellyn: **I intend to go through all the time between ANH and ESB - just faster than I've been going.

**Clare: **My deepest apologies and a cyber-cookie. Here you go.

**muffinnatalie: **Another almost-kiss. Interesting...

**GreatOne: **Sorry if I shocked you!

**Ann: **A kiss! Hmm..

**Sophie: **You know, it's reviews like this that keep me writing. Thank you so very much!

**PrincessSkywalkerOrgana: **Deep sultry looks? But of course!

**PrincessSkywalkerOrgana: **Nice quotes.

**suxyq: **Thank you!

**Brittany: **I agree that the asteriod kiss seemed first-ish. Thanks for the thoughts.

**Kazzy: **I appologize if I've depressed you. This one's happier, I promise.

**Mara-look-alike: **One year past ANH.

**Mara-look-alike: **Thank you!

**Mara-look-alike: **Thank you! (Wow, four reviews! Thanks!)

**SailorLeia: **Thank you very much!

**Katie: **Thank you!

**valsolo: **Thank you! Gotta love that Janson.

**Pokey1984: **A kiss? I really have to think this one over now...

**stormygurlz: **Thank you!

**flames: **Thank you!

**Sithspawn-13: **Ahh.. Han does not react well.

**Prisoner 24601: **Thank you!

**liz: **Thank you!

**Pokey1984: **Here's a tissue. Don't cry!

**And off we go! **

* * *

**Message sent at 1126 hours, Day 10, Month 3, Year 3043**  
  
Wesy boy, I lost a thousand in the polls today. And Solo and the princess? STILL NO ACTION! Not even a little, tiny bit. And no, Janson, a couple heated glances across the hanger bay do not mean they are "getting it on." So what if Han has stopped having flings with the other women around here. It means nothing, Wes, unless they** publicly** display affection. And, no, hugs after Han is back from a supply run don't count. Plus, I think we've established that the prolonged embrace after the Susinet mission was simply joy to still be alive.  
  
It's not just me, either. Wedge is royally pissed off and even Luke's getting mad. (The guy didn't even place any bets, Wesy. People are not happy.)  
  
We think that you should return the credits you owe us, not to mention half the base.  
  
Hobbie

* * *

**Message sent at 1135 hours, Day 10, Month 3, Year 3043  
**  
Hobs, hold your banthas. It'll be better for us all if we keep at this. Besides, I have a plan.  
  
Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 1136 hours, Day 10, Month 3, Year 3043**  
  
Last time you said that, Han and Leia ended up on a mission that ended up killing over a hundred innocent people. Real romantic. Plus, after it Han didn't speak to Chewie for a week. Still have no idea why.  
  
This better be good.  
  
Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 1137 hours, Day 10, Month 3, Year 3043**  
  
It is good, Hobs, it is good. We're gonna use bonafied psychology. Bring Wedge.  
  
Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 1152 hours, Day 10, Month 3, Year 3043**  
  
Luke,  
  
Would you mind explaining why Wes, Hobbie, and Wedge came into my office, whispered "Solo" in my ear, and ran out. Bizarre pilot ritual, perhaps? Good luck charm, maybe?  
  
Or, and I'm going out on a limb here, another nerf-brained scheme to get Han and I together?  
  
Tell them if they try it again I'll have them court marshaled before you can whisper "Han Solo."  
  
Leia

* * *

**Message sent at 1154 hours, Day 10, Month 3, Year 3043  
**  
You whispered "Solo" in her ear!!???  
  
Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 1155 hours, Day 10, Month 3, Year 3043  
**  
Wes' idea of psychology.  
  
Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 1156 hours, Day 10, Month 3, Year 3043**  
  
Well, I bet it got her thinking about him.  
  
Wes

* * *

**Message sent at 1157 hours, Day 10, Month 3, Year 3043  
**  
All it got her thinking about is court marshaling you.  
  
Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 1158 hours, Day 10, Month 3, Year 3043  
**  
You think she's on to us?  
  
Wes  
  
P.S. I have another plan; an even higher form of psychology. This time it can't fail.

* * *

**Message sent at 1159 hours, Day 10, Month 3, Year 3042  
**  
Do you guys ever work?  
  
Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 1200 hours, Day 10, Month 3, Year 3043**  
  
Nope, too busy forcing people to fall in love.  
  
Wes

* * *

**Message sent at 1203 hours, Day 10, Month 3, Year 3043**  
  
Ah, the true calling of the rogue squadron.  
  
Wedge

* * *

**Meeting Transcript: On the Subject of "What The Hell Is That Noise?"  
**  
Typed up by the esteemed Wes Janson, as the usual typist is sick – again. (Poor thing really picks up a lot of bugs.)  
  
Reason for meeting: There is a strange stream of sound coming from the PA system. It is not a language anyone here can recognize. The General Jan Dodonna fears the worst.  
  
He, Supreme Commander Mon Mothma, and General Carlist Rieekan enter the meeting room, which previously only held this typist, closely followed by a technician who has been summoned to determine what the noise is. (Poor guy.)  
  
**Dodonna (Speaking... well, more like yelling, at the tech):** Well come on, man! Is it an imperial attempt at brainwashing us, or not?!  
  
**Technician:** Well... not exactly.  
  
**Mon Mothma:** What is it then?!  
  
**Technician:** Ummm... it's quite unusual.  
  
**Dodonna:** Well?  
  
The technician leans over and whispers in Dodonna's ear. Dodonna appears shocked, and occasionally whispers things "Oh goddess" and "I don't believe it." Mon Mothma is tapping her foot, looking kind of annoyed at being left out.  
  
An example of what is happening:  
  
**Dodonna:** Oh my!  
  
**Technician(Still whispering incoherently):** Psst, psssst.... (ext.)  
  
**Mon Mothma:** Tap, tap, tapity tap.  
  
**Rieekan:  
**  
Actually, this is getting rather boring. Maybe I should get them to raise my pay-  
  
**Dodonna:** What?!! Repeat that.  
  
**Mon Mothma (Seizing the break in whispering):** So all of us can hear it.  
  
**Technician:** Han loves Leia.  
  
**Mon Mothma (Annoyed):** What.  
  
**Technician:** It's... well, it's one of the phrases the PA's been playing.  
  
**Mon Mothma (Very Annoyed):** And what other phrases has it been playing?  
  
The technician looks a little green.  
  
**Technician (Glancing, very rudely, might I add, over at me):** I'd rather not repeat it if it's going on record. (Damn; that means it's good.)  
  
**Mon Mothma:** Well, whisper it in my ear.  
  
The tech proceeds to whisper into Mon Mothma's ear. (This is really getting ridiculous. I wonder if Rieekan is as bored as I am. On a side note, I'm up to 121 words a minute, according to the measure on the bottom of this data pad. Yippee! New record. Oh wait, there looks like there might be coherent speech... Never mind. False alarm; Rieekan was just stretching.)  
  
**Mon Mothma (Turning away from the whispering tech):** What could you be possibly typing now, Janson? There is no one talking, at least not that you can hear.  
  
**Janson:** Just reporting how lovely you look today, ma'am.  
  
**Mon Mothma:** Stop typing, Janson.  
  
**Janson:** Yes ma'am.  
  
-  
  
A long, long time later:  
  
**Mon Mothma:** So let me get this straight, every phrase played had to do with Captain Han Solo and Princess Leia Organa... in one way, or another.  
  
**Technician:** That's correct.  
  
**Rieekan (Speaking for the first time in this whole ordeal, rather sarcastically, too):** Then why can't we understand it?  
  
Mon Mothma and Dodonna both look a little startled, as if the thought hadn't yet occurred to them.  
  
**Mon Mothma:** Yes. Why can't we?  
  
**The Poor, Hassled Technician:** It's being played backwards.  
  
**Mon Mothma:** This is outrageous! It's ridiculous! Why would anyone play all that obscenity _backwards_?!  
  
(Well, obviously for psychological purposes, to get ideas into Han and Leia's subconscious, which are supposed to be able to reverse whole sentences, and make them think about each other - but it's rude to contradict the Supreme Commander.)  
  
**Rieekan:** Actually, I find it quite funny. And besides, it's turned off now. It was just some harmless prank. (An excellent point.)  
  
**Dodonna:** Yes, but it could have been dangerous, not being able to use our PA system. What if we were being invaded? What if-  
  
Someone has just burst into the meeting room; it looks to be... By goddess, it's the other typist. And he's pointing at me-  
  
**Other Typist (Panting):** You, you... (Gasp) I am going to (Pant) kill you!  
  
I think I might be in trouble.

* * *

**Meeting Transcript: On Suitable Punishment for Wes Janson  
**  
Declaration 1: Janson, Wes, is found guilty of locking Mater Tust in his closet so he could take the place of Mater in his typist job. He is also suspected of tampering with the PA system, but only on circumstantial evidence.  
  
Declaration 2: Janson, Wes, will be sentenced to serving duty in the Secondary Mess for two standard weeks.

* * *

**Message sent at 1408 hours, Day 11, Month 3, Year 3043  
**  
Alright, I have yet another plan, and one that cannot, cannot, cannot fail. I need all of your assistance. We'll be going on the scout mission to Hoth.  
  
Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 1410 hours, Day 11, Month 3, Year 3043  
**  
We? We who?  
  
Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 1410 hours, Day 11, Month 3, Year 3043  
**  
Why Hoth?  
  
Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 1412 hours, Day 11, Month 3, Year 3043  
**  
Wesy boy, do you want to be court marshaled? Or, better yet, killed? Han is real mad, Janson. So what if the man's got a crush on the Princess. He doesn't need you to go and make it public. Besides, no way are the serving droids gonna let you go. They're really taking a shining to you, boy.  
  
Hobbie

* * *

**Message sent at 1413 hours, Day 11, Month 3, Year 3043  
**  
We, Wedge. Us four are going. And we're going to Hoth tomorrow because both Han and Leia have signed up for that mission. I have a sure-fire way to get our two lovebirds together.  
  
Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 1414 hours, Day 11, Month 3, Year 3043  
**  
Let me guess; more psychology?  
  
Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 1415 hours, Day 11, Month 3, Year 3043**  
  
No, my friend. 'Fresher-ology.  
  
Janson

* * *

_Journal of Princess Leia Organa _

_11th Day, 3rd Month, 3043rd Year_

_Well, in complete truth, it's after midnight, so really it's the 12th Day. One year to the day_ it_ happened.  
  
My therapist wanted to talk to me about it today. I guess to make sure I didn't kill myself in the night; it would look bad for her. She also told me I should stay on base tomorrow, told me I shouldn't run away, said I should face it head on. In other words; be brave, be strong, and for goddess' sakes, Leia, don't run like a scared child. The troops shouldn't see that, shouldn't see you act human.  
  
Ah, the troops. I didn't tell my therapist, but they are the biggest reason I must leave base tomorrow, before the sun rises. They will be celebrating tomorrow. Laughing and cheering, smiling and getting drunk, dancing – because tomorrow is also the anniversary of the destruction of the Death Star. And I don't trust myself; don't trust myself not to pull out my blaster and shoot every last smiling one of them.  
  
I stayed up tonight and watched for the clock to turn from 2459 hours to 0100 hours because some part of me believed something would happen. As the clock turned over to a new day, _the _day, there would be a sign. The planet would shake, the animals would scream, crying at the memory of the loss of a million lives – something. But no; the clock turned and the world slept on, oblivious. And I thought to myself: how? How could universe continue, how could it not fall, sag under the weight of my pain? How could the three moons shine so brightly, without a cloud in the sky, on such a night? How could everything just stand by watching, as I cried silently? As my heart broke._ _

* * *

_**Falcon Ship Log **

**Day 12, Month 3, Year 3043**

****

**My crew to Hoth has officially doubled, no, tripled in size. Now I'm luggin around not only Her Worship, who I haven't been getting along too well with, but Luke, Wedge, Wes, and Hobbie. That makes six, if you add Chewie. At least it'll put a nice, comfortable distance between me and Her High and Mightiness. Lately, every damn time we see each other it ends in a fight.  
  
Frankly, I'm starting to give some serious thought to leaving. I'm getting nowhere with Her Holier-Than-Thou-ness, Luke has a lot of friends in the Rogue Squadron, so he won't miss me, and Jabba is probably employing more bounty hunters as I write this.  
  
Well, in truth, the real reason is Leia.  
  
Why we ain't getting along isn't exactly her fault. See, I've been trying to put some, I dunno, distance(bold) between us, and she doesn't like it. The problem started on my last supply run, which lasted about a standard month. Halfway through, I started to miss her like crazy. I started to imagine what she'd say about this contact, what she'd think about that planet, if this sight would make her laugh. It was torture! I even started to dream about her – well, more than the usual. I almost turned the damn ship around and flew back to base to see her.  
  
The way I see it, the longer I stay on base, the worse it'll get. So I think I'll just go ahead and leave.  
  
Just give me one more week.** **

* * *

**

_Journal of Princess Leia Organa _

_12th Day, 3rd Month, 3043rd Year_

_I am honestly speechless. They locked us in the 'fresher! Together! They actually brought us down here, pushed us in, and locked the door! The nerve!  
  
I wouldn't believe it myself, except for the fact that I am sitting on a toilet as I write this and Han is fuming in a corner.  
  
We've been here for around four hours now, and by Maroduos time it's close to night. Surely Luke will qualm and convince the other three to let us out.  
  
Surely they'll pull us out and tell us "Sorry, but good joke, huh? We sure had you two going."  
  
Surely they don't intend to keep us in here for the three-day trip to Hoth!!  
  
I mean, thinking reasonably, how will they feed us? They haven't had to yet because we ate dinner right before they shoved us into here, but they will have to come morning. And they really don't think we're actually going to sleep in here, do they?  
  
They don't seriously believe that we can last in close quarters for that long. We haven't even lasted four hours; we're currently not speaking.  
  
We spent the first hour arguing; about everything from ways to break down the door to the way he was propping his feet up on the edge of the toilet. Han was inconsiderate, annoying, insincere, and sarcastic, even when I tried to strike up a conversation. He's been acting strange around me lately, and things don't feel quite right between us. It bothers me, and I don't know why. Why should I care? Why should I obsess, analyze, evaluate the way he feels about me into the wee hours of morning? It makes no sense.  
  
Well, really, I know why I do, but I can't tell him that. For sith's sakes, just look at the age difference. I probably seem like a little girl to him, a child. And if I tell him... I don't want to look like a girl with a crush.  
  
I am going to kill Luke when we get out of here. Where are we supposed to sleep?!!_ __

* * *

  
  
**Falcon Ship Log  
  
Day 1 of Confinement  
  
I've pictured a lot of scenarios with Leia and me in the 'fresher, and, believe me, this ain't one of them.  
  
She's asleep now, all curled up and everything. There's hardly enough room for both us here on the floor, even with her in a ball and me sitting with my knees up to my chin. I guess one of us could sleep in the shower stall, but I don't fancy sleeping standing and it'd be a shame to wake her up now. Goddess knows she'll probably find something to yell about; it's what she's been doing all day., even before we got locked in here.  
  
Guess it's lucky that I had this little data pad with me when they locked us up, else I'd be going crazy right about now.  
  
Still, you gotta admire the nerve a those guys, locking us in here. They must not care too much about their lives in this world. What I'm really ticked about is that Chewie didn't even try and help us. I got to talk to him a while ago, alone. I was kinda expecting that he would unlock the door (Sith only knows how they got it locked in the first place), but no. He just laughed at me and told me to enjoy the down time. "But how'll we go to the bathroom?" was one of my biggest concerns. He chuckled.  
  
"You are in a bathroom, cub."  
  
Yeah, yeah, sure. That's easy for him to say, when he has a bathroom accessible – Wait, how the hell are they gonna go to the bathroom? Ha, got 'em. I think I'll just ask Chewie that. Hopefully he's awake...  
  
Hmm. The air lock. Creative.** **

* * *

**

_Journal of Princess Leia _

_13th Day, 3rd Month, 3043rd Year_

_Still in the 'fresher.  
  
I guess it could be worse. I could be locked up here with poisonous gnarks instead of Han.  
  
I am starting to realize that how resourceful our captors are. Today we were given our breakfast through the ventilation system. They pushed it through from Han's bunkroom, which apparently has its vent connected to ours, somehow. Wasted effort, though. They can't cook.  
  
I wonder how long they've been planning this one for. I wonder how much winning money through "the polls" matters to them; it must matter a hell of a lot to come up with this.  
  
My day so far has consisted of asking myself that question a million times, planning revenge, yelling at Han, and eating burnt toast. I've even considered convincing Han into pretending to get together, date, become lovers – whatever it's called – just to get out of here. Heck, I'd even do it for real. That is how desperate I am._ _

* * *

_**Falcon Ship Log  
  
Day 2 of confinement.  
  
In truth, really late on Day 2 of confinement. Her Worship is already asleep; with her head on my lap. This is the second time something like this has happened since I met her and I'm beginning to question my good luck. Maybe something up in the cosmos plans to kill me off soon and is trying to lull me into a sense of false security... Or I could be paranoid.  
  
The reason I keep staying up this late is so I can go to the bathroom when she's asleep. It's much easier than what she does; lock me in the shower stall, for up to ten time parts on end.  
  
We pretty much spent the whole day bickering, (Ha. That's a funny word. Wes came up with it when he was commenting on our "behavior".) but about an hour ago we hit on a bit of a tender subject. She was complaining about, well, _me_ in general, and I interrupted to ask her why the hell she volunteered for this mission, if she hated me so bad. I thought it was a smart comment, that it would trip her up; somehow make her admit her passionate love for me. (Hey, a guy can dream.)  
  
Well, she didn't even stop to correct me and say that it was "hated me so badly" not "bad", which is totally off character for her. I knew something was wrong right there, and she confirmed my suspicions by screaming at me:  
  
"Do you really want to know why I came on this mission? Really? Well, guess what, yesterday was the anniversary of Alderaan's destruction and I didn't really want to be there while everyone was there celebrating the Yavin victory!"  
  
I had completely forgotten about that. Completely. Great way to show a girl you care, Solo. And she just stood there, breathing hard through her nose, wild-eyed. I mumbled some consoling stuff, mostly a bunch of bantha dung, while really not making any sense. Leia didn't seem to mind, but then again it's a wonder she could hear at all, what with her head buried in my chest. I honestly can't remember if she grabbed me, or I grabbed her, or what, but I pulled her down to sit with me. She fell asleep with her head in my lap.  
  
Poor thing. She's, what, nineteen? Twenty? She can't be too old, and she looks younger in sleep, with tear trails all down her pretty face.  
  
Jeez, I am getting soft.  
  
You know, Leia would probably blend into the 'fresher floor if she wasn't in my lap. I mean she's all in white and everything... I better go to sleep; I am starting to think really strange thoughts, like Leia hiding in the 'fresher by pressing herself up against a wall.  
****

* * *

**

_Journal of Leia Organa _

_14th Day, 3rd Month, 3043rd Year_

_Still confined in this white prison called a 'fresher.  
  
It's actually not so bad now. Han was quite sweet last night, when I cried about Alderaan, and, hell, even the boys' cooking tastes good this morning._ _

* * *

_  
  
**Falcon Ship Log  
  
Day 3 of confinement.  
  
Things are defiantly starting to look up. I spent the day teaching Leia Sabaac, which was... interesting, we'll be out of here tomorrow when we reach Hoth, and we also now have a plan as to how to get back at the boys.** **

* * *

Message sent at 1036 hours, Day 18, Month 3, Year 3043**  
  
I am never, ever going along with another one of your plans, Wes. I still have a cold from Hoth.  
  
Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 1037 hours, Day 18, Month 3, Year 3043  
**  
Aw, come on. Didn't you see the looks on Han and Leia's faces?  
  
Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 1038 hours, Day 18, Month 3, Year 3043**  
  
Wes, when we let them out on Hoth they ran outside, grabbed snow and creamed us in a snowball fight. Then they locked us in the 'fresher on they way back, four people and a Wookie in one small space, still in our wet clothes, and turned down the heat. I'd say they looked mad.  
  
Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 1039 hours, Day 18, Month 3, Year 3043**  
  
Yeah sure, but that means they were alone for three days!  
  
Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 1043 hours, Day 18, Month 3, Year 3043**  
  
Janson, you're crazy.  
  
Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 0957 hours, Day 19, Month 3, Year 3043  
**  
Results for the betting:  
  
**THEY WILL KILL EACHOTHER WITHIN A WEEK:** 12 bets  
  
**BETWEEN THE SHEETS WITHIN A WEEK:** 41 bets  
  
**THEY WILL KILL EACHOTHER IN A DAY:** 4 bets  
  
**BETWEEN THE SHEETS IN A DAY:** 34 bets  
  
Interesting...  
  
Janson

* * *

**Well?**


	11. What They're Not Saying

**

* * *

Still here, still alive, still breathing...**

**Don't worry: Ord Mantell is coming up soon. Two more posts.**

**For those of you who are a little lost right now, the rebels are still on the base on Maroduos 5. They will be moving to Hoth in the next post. It has been almost two years since the battle of Yavin.**

**Also, in my version of the Galactic Calendar there are ten months in a year, each containing thirty days. So that's three weeks a month, with ten days per week.**

**By the way, does anyone know when Luke became a Commander?**

**everyone: **I have written more!

**arrow maker: **Thank you! I always wondered why Leia didn't show more emotion in the movies. The girl lost her planet!

**Princessmeg: **Thank you!

**Mara-look-alike: **Thank you!

**suzyq: **Well, as for Han and Leia action we have a... confession, of a sort, in this chapter.

**Clare: **I made your day? Awww...

**SailorLeia: **Thank you!

**New Girl: **I'm still going.

**stormygurlz:** Thank you!

**A Star Wars Fanatic: **Always good to know who I'm answering! Thank you!

**Pitdroid: **Another kiss voter. What to do...

**lurker1: **Thank you!

**Pokey1984: **Unfortunately no, they weren't raised too well.

**liz: **Good ol'Wes.

**Sithspawn-13: **Four people in one 'fresher certainly wouldn't be that great...

**Kazzy: **Thank you!

**owphoenix: **Thank you!

**Alright folks, confession time!**

**

* * *

**

**Message sent at 0600 hours, Day 26, Month 7, Year 3043  
**  
ATTENTION REBELS:  
  
Hoth has been deemed suitable for a base. We shall move there as soon as is possible.  
  
The High Council

* * *

**Message sent at 0607 hours, Day 26, Month 7, Year 3043**  
  
ATTENTION REBELS:  
  
We shall not be moving to Hoth as a Mr. Criis Crinkles (otherwise known as Sarta Clauses) is concerned of the danger a rebel base on Hoth will bring to his toy factory which is located, along with his team of flying banthas, somewhere on Hoth. Far be it from the rebellion to prevent the delivering of toys to little children this Gift Day.  
  
The High Council

* * *

**Meeting Transcript:** On Subject of "We Have Had Enough With all the F----- Pranks"  
  
Declaration 1: Antilles, Wedge, will have his computer terminal taken away from him and will join his friend, Wes Janson, in serving duty.  
  
Declaration 2: [Quote, Jan Dodonna] If there is another prank – ever – in the history of the rebellion, I am not to be held responsible for what I do. [End Quote]

* * *

**Message sent at 0835 hours, Day 26, Month 7, Year 3043  
**  
Wedge, man, you stole my act!  
  
Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0836 hours, Day 26, Month 7, Year 3043  
**  
Nope, just beat you to it. You can't afford any more heat from the brass. I saved your butt, buddy.  
  
Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 0838 hours, Day 26, Month 7, Year 3043  
**  
Far be it from me to interrupt this little dispute, but has anyone else noticed how, sad – depressed even – Luke's been lately? I know I mentioned it before, but it seems to have got worse. And no, Wesy boy, I don't think it's food poisoning. It's virtually impossible for the sugar-less, salt- less, _taste_-less (but chock full of nutrients) dried-out rocks they feed us to go bad.  
  
Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 0838 hours, Day 26, Month 7, Year 3043  
**  
He's probably just ticked-off because Han and Leia's relationship is heating up.  
  
Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0838 hours, Day 26, Month 7, Year 3043  
**  
Luke doesn't even like Leia anymore. Besides, Han and Leia are most certainly not "heating up."  
  
Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 0839 hours, Day 26, Month 7, Year 3043**  
  
I don't know about that. I think Luke's still got it bad for Leia. But it can't have anything to do with that because, despite all Wesy's protests to the contrary, Leia and Han are not making any progress. Whenever those two are together, actually talking to each other it's in very loud voices, and not normally about relationship-based issues. Then, when they're not yelling, they hardly talk at all.  
  
Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 0842 hours, Day 26, Month 7, Year 3043**  
  
Ah, but what they aren't saying could fill pages and pages of a data pad.  
  
Janson

* * *

_Journal of Princess Leia Organa _

_26th Day, 7th Month, 3043rd Year  
_

_So Hoth is to be our next base. Well.  
  
Every now and then there comes a time in your life when you have to question, oh say, the SANITY of the Gods.  
  
But I suppose the choice of making Hoth our next base really has nothing to do with the judgment of the Gods, and a whole lot more to do with the High Council's good sense. Which they have demonstrated will not even fill up an atom.  
  
I honestly thought that our little scout mission to Hoth was unimportant, that Hoth was simply a last resort. Hey, even the rebellion has to have a backup plan.  
  
Still, you have to wonder how many plans fell short for them to get to this one.  
  
My therapist says that I won't need her for much longer. That I'm getting better, healing. Like I've said before, sweet, but hopelessly misguided.  
  
It's strange that I've never written down my therapist's name here. As if not giving her an identity would somehow make her less real, make the fact that I needed a therapist at all less real.  
  
Her name is Aspith Maro.  
  
Perhaps she's right, and I am making progress. However, if finally giving your therapist a name in the diary _she_ gave you is progress I'd hate to see her worse-off clients.  
  
All she seems to want to talk about these days is Han, Han, Han. Do you love him, Leia? Are you feeling an attraction to him, Leia? You can tell me, Leia. It's all private, Leia. I won't tell anyone, Leia.  
  
As if I haven't been embarrassed enough in front of her without her knowing about my love-life, which happens to be non-existent. And whatever happened to Alderaan, if you please? I could be wrong, but I think a planet's destruction might be a slightly more important topic than a child's crush on an older man. Because that's all I feel, I've decided. It's all I can feel. It can't be anymore important than that. And, after all, why trouble Han by letting him know about such a childish notion.  
  
Han. I have no idea of what is going on between us. Except for the fact that what I feel is nothing more than a crush; of that I'm very certain. Very certain.  
  
Still, these days, it's so strange. We've fought for so long... it's hard to break old habits. No matter how much you want to.  
  
Whenever one of us starts a civil conversation, the other provokes it into a fight. He by sexual innuendoes, myself with jabs at his ship, at him. And then there's banter, when we spar verbally for our amusement, and, more often than not, the amusement of our friends. Hell, the entire base gets a kick out of it.  
  
However, Han has recently come up with new ammunition for our arguments: threats of leaving. Sure, he always grumbles about it to Chewie and Luke when he's made to do something he doesn't want to do, but it was a joke! Silly taunts between friends, harmless, never meant to be thrown at someone in contempt during an argument. So now Han has the upper hand, because I can't very well come up with anything to match the threat of departing, save threatening to actually kill him. At least not while I'm so unsure of the state of our relationship.  
  
Relationship? We have a relationship now, Organa? Grow up.  
  
Truth told I have no idea how he feels about me. I know how I feel about him: I have a school-girl crush, which I _will _get over, but no idea what he thinks of me. He flirts, yes, but he does that with all the women he meets. But this Sweetheart's Day he gave me a bracelet.  
  
Not what the hell is that about? I think I've got the man figured out and then he goes and buys me a bracelet? Does he enjoy causing me emotional trauma?  
  
I'm wearing it now. The bracelet, that is, not emotional trauma, though I'm experiencing some of that too. It's a silly little thing, linked hearts made out of some kind of metal, and it jangles as I move to type.  
  
But he's leaving, so I really shouldn't be wearing his bracelet. I shouldn't be writing about him at all. I should simply be concentrating on the fact that what I feel is a crush. I'll just repeat that to myself, like a mantra, and everything will be fine.  
  
Ha. Take that Aspith: I _can_ fall out of love by will.  
  
This better work though; because, unlike the Rebellion, I have no backup plan. None._ _

* * *

_**Falcon Ship Log **

**Day 26, Month 7, Year 3043  
**

**The kid is a nutcase. All that Jedi/ Force stuff is going to his head. Damn hokey religion is teaching him self-sacrifice, or something.  
  
He's been all broody lately. I thought it might have something to do with hormones and that whole being a teenager deal. (I just found out that he's just nineteen. Nineteen! And the Princess, too! Sith, it makes a guy feel really old.) But Luke recently blew that theory to hell.  
  
He came over to the Falcon today, looking a bit dejected. He came in and we had a drink. We were just having a pointless conversation and, completely outta the blue, he says: "Look Han, I'll step aside for you if you want to, you know... go after Leia."  
  
(See what I mean with the whole self-sacrifice thing.)  
  
My reply wasn't exactly my best ever. It was probably a monosyllable "What?" or something, but in my defense I was kinda socked. Luke, looking really dejected at this point, just repeats it then bolts for the ramp. I caught up with him and dragged him back to the holo-chess table. Getting the rest of the story was like pulling a gnakel's teeth, but he finally told me.  
  
Turns out he has this crazy theory that I like the Princess. (Okay, so he's right. But, I'm not going to tell _him_ that.) The kid also thinks she's got something for me too, which would be nice, if I wasn't so sure he was wrong. He repeated that he'd step aside.  
  
Man, the kid must really believe what he's saying if he's serious about this whole stepping-aside deal. So maybe Leia really – never mind.  
  
I pretty much denied the whole Leia thing, told him he was crazy, saw him to the ramp, then went back into my cabin and got very, very drunk. I woke up with a major headache, an empty bottle, and a much better idea of what I'm going to do.  
  
The way I see it, if Luke of all people can tell I have a thing for Her Worship, then a lot of other people must know too. That means either Leia knows, or she will soon. So, damn it, the time to leave is now. I can't keep sticking around here, no matter how pretty Leia is, no matter how beautiful her eyes are – Damn it, Solo.  
  
I'll leave. Just as soon as I get a goodbye kiss.** **

* * *

**

_Journal of Princess Leia Organa _

_26th Day, 7th Month, 3043rd Year  
_

_I believe I just made the worst mistake of my life. Honestly. I might as well kill myself now. It would be simple because the authorities would stock it up to the another-Alderaanian-loses-their-marbles file. No one would suspect. Except maybe Luke.  
  
Luke. Poor, sweet, darling Luke. I think I'll have to lend Aspith to him now; he must be psychologically damaged after what I did.  
  
Gods, why did I _do_ that? Sure, I was feeling vulnerable and hurt from my fight with Han in the mess, but what possessed me..... ?  
  
Oh sweet goddess, that fight was something else. We've fought so much you'd think I'd be used to it by now, but this time our fight was over a goodbye. He said he was leaving. Soon. For real. For good.  
  
Of course, he has to get clearance first, and that could take days...  
  
After the fight, or rather in the middle of it, I ran away to my quarters. Not exactly a mature or striking response, but I am so tired of being strong. Luke must have followed me, because the next thing I know he's pounding on my door, begging to be let in. I let him in and the rest is a mess, a jumble of words and time. Luke telling me that he had offered to step aside for Han and me (I hadn't realized he even still felt that way about me), that Han had blown him off. All I could think was: how is this relevant? Han is_ leaving._ Can't you see I don't care?  
  
Then Luke said I should tell Han how I felt. My mind was too confused, too bewildered to send out warnings of how close we were getting to an area I had so strategically avoided before. And my blood was still running hot from the argument; I had no idea what I was doing, so I shouted that Han couldn't care less how I felt. Then Luke – shy, bashful Luke – gathered me up in his arms.  
  
I honestly have no idea why I did it.  
  
It was a stupid reaction.  
  
I shouldn't have kissed him.  
  
Shouldn't have wrapped my arms around him. Shouldn't have pressed up against him. Shouldn't have, shouldn't have, shouldn't have.  
  
Luke stopped me, though. Pushed me away gently, and told me that I didn't know what I was doing.  
  
I really shouldn't have said what I did then. Shouldn't have looked up and told him "No, I know exactly what I'm doing. I'm falling in love with Han." Should NOT have.  
  
Luke shushed me, told me it was alright, but the damage was done. I admitted to Han's closest friend that I loved Han. There's no helping it: Luke will surely tell Han now.  
  
Han Solo. Surely the surname should have at least warned me away, but no Organa, you just had to go and do it. Defy everyone and fall for the pirate. One tiny, teensy glitch in the plan, being: _He's a Gods damned pirate!_ And pirates' sure as hell don't stop and get married during their illegal trips about the galaxy!  
  
Now you see why I must end my life. Either mine or Han's. Ironic that my demise is to be over a childish crush (yes, I am still sticking to that mantra. If I have to go, I might as well go with dignity) and not the destruction of my planet.  
  
Oh sith. I just realized that by writing this down here, everyone will know why I killed myself. I will not give Han the pleasure of knowing that he, literally, annoyed me to death. I suppose I'll have to live now. Darn.  
_ _

* * *

_**Message sent at 1543 hours, Day 26, Month 7, Year 3043  
**  
Guys! Leia loves Han! She just told me, actually admitted it!  
  
Problem is, do we tell Han?  
  
Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 1546 hours, Day 26, Month 7, Year 3043**  
  
Hell yes, boy. I need the cash.  
  
Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 1548 hours, Day 26, Month 7, Year 3043**  
  
Come on Hobs, that's selfish to Leia. Still agree with you though. Sorry Luke, but I would be more inclined to think of Leia's feelings if I had two credits to rub together.  
  
Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 1549 hours, Day 26, Month 7, Year 3043**  
  
Why you two are a bunch of money-loving bastards... I have taught you so well! Look Lukie, if you don't tell him one of us will and it's probably better coming from you.  
  
Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 1550 hours, Day 26, Month 7, Year 3043  
**  
I'll do it, but only because I want Han to hear the truth from me rather than a ridiculous story from you. How do I reach him?  
  
Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 1552 hours, Day 26, Month 7, Year 3043**  
  
Message him. But wait, we're being insensitive here. I'm sorry, Luke. That must have really hurt, hearing that from Leia.  
  
Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 1553 hours, Day 26, Month 7, Year 3043  
**  
Not really. I already knew. 'Sides, I placed a bet.  
  
Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 1555 hours, Day 26, Month 7, Year 3043  
**  
Hold it. You still got the hots for Leia?  
  
Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 1555 hours, Day 26, Month 7, Year 3043**  
  
What a sensitive way of asking, Wes.  
  
Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 1556 hours, Day 26, Month 7, Year 3043  
**  
It's okay, Wedge. And yeah, I still like her.  
  
Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 1557 hours, Day 26, Month 7, Year 3043  
**  
You owe me ten credits, Wes.  
  
Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 1559 hours, Day 26, Month 7, Year 3043  
**  
You bet on everything and you're gonna run out of money.  
  
Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 1601 hours, Day 26, Month 7, Year 3043  
**  
Another jewel of that ol'Jedi wisdom.  
  
Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 1602 hours, Day 26, Month 7, Year 3043**  
  
I'm messaging Han now. I don't have to take this abuse.  
  
Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 1605 hours, Day 26, Month 7, Year 3043**  
  
Han? You there? This is kind of important.  
  
Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 1605 hours, Day 26, Month 7, Year 3043**  
  
Make it quick kid. The Falcon's acting up.  
  
-Solo

* * *

**Message sent at 1606 hours, Day 26, Month 7, Year 3043**  
  
When is it not?  
  
Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 1607 hours, Day 26, Month 7, Year 3043  
**  
I'm warning you kid...  
  
-Solo

* * *

**Message sent at 1609 hours, Day 26, Month 7, Year 3043  
**  
All right. I really don't know how to tell you this. I was talking with Leia earlier... and, well, she sai-

* * *

**WARNING:****BASE POWER HAS BEEN TURNED OFF. YOUR COMPUTER TERMINAL WILL TURN OFF IN TEN SECONDS.**

* * *

**Message sent at 1611 hours, Day 26, Month 7, Year 3043**  
  
ATTENTION REBELS:  
  
We do not know what caused the base to power down, but we are investigating it right now. We apologize for the inconvenience.  
  
The High Council

* * *

**Message sent at 1613 hours, Day 26, Month 7, Year 3043**  
  
Hey, did the lights go out where you guys were?  
  
Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 1614 hours, Day 26, Month 7, Year 3043  
**  
They went out everywhere, Wes.

Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 1615 hours, Day 26, Month 7, Year 3043**  
  
Did anyone else hear the blaster shot?  
  
Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 1617 hours, Day 26, Month 7, Year 3043  
**  
What?  
  
Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 1618 hours, Day 26, Month 7, Year 3043  
**  
No, but I sure as hell heard screaming. Why is it that everyone screams when the lights go out?  
  
Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 1619 hours, Day 26, Month 7, Year 3043  
**  
Ingrained childhood fear of the dark.  
  
Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 1621 hours, Day 26, Month 7, Year 3043  
**  
Sith, I'm serious. I think you heard screams because of the blaster sh - oh Gods, someone was hit.  
  
Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 1623 hours, Day 26, Month 7, Year 3043  
**  
Where? Who?  
  
Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 1624 hours, Day 26, Month 7, Year 3043**  
  
Outside my quarters. I can't see through all the people... It looks like a woman. Oh Gods, there's blood everywhere.  
  
Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 1624 hours, Day 26, Month 7, Year 3043**  
  
We're coming. Hang in there, Hobbie.  
  
Janson

* * *

**Base Hospital: Patient Log  
**  
**Name of Patient:** Organa, Leia  
  
**Injuries:** Blaster wound to hip.  
  
**Cause of Injuries:** Well, obviously a blaster shot.

* * *

**Meeting Transcript: On Subject of Who Shot Princess Leia Organa  
**  
Typed up once again by Wes Janson. And yes, the alternate typist is in his closet, but I don't think anyone will really care. What with the last princess of Alderaan lying in sick-bay with a blaster hole in her hip and everything...  
  
Seated around the meeting table is Supreme Commander Mon Mothma, General Carlist Rieekan, and General Jan Dodonna, and a technician (different one from last time) – the usual crowd.  
  
The atmosphere is understandably tense; no one's quite meeting each other's eyes. Hell, Mothma hasn't even noticed me yet. Oh, wait, I think I might have jinxed myself:  
  
**Mon Mothma (Looking a bit tired):** Janson, what are you doing here?  
  
**Janson:** Typing, ma'am.  
  
She sighs, but says nothing more. (See what I mean; listless, the whole lot of them. Damn, when I find out who shot that girl I am going to- Oops. I forgot you can't swear in these things.)  
  
The reason we're here is because Princess/Senator Leia Organa was shot in the hip from close range during a short black-out when the whole base powered down for approximately 1.24 time parts. (Whew; long sentence.) She is currently in critical care, perhaps dying, we still don't know why the power went off or if it will happen again, and there is a blaster- toting idiot running around free. Good reason for a meeting? I think so.  
  
**Mon Mothma:** Alright, gentlemen. We have a crisis on our hands. I believe the logical thing to do at this point would be t-  
  
The door of the meeting room opens and in race Captain Han Solo, Pilot Luke Skywalker, and the Wookiee Chewbacca; in short the entire rescue-Leia team, without the droids. Oh wait, here they come; droids C3PO and R2D2. Lovely.  
  
**Mon Mothma:** And just what do you think you are doing?  
  
**Solo (Angrily):** We think we have a right to have a say in what happens to who ever shot Leia.  
  
Mon Mothma trades looks with both Rieekan and Dodonna. (The technician remains ignored, poor guy. No wonder we have a shortage of them.)  
  
**Mon Mothma:** Fine. Sit down. (Did no one teach this woman manners?)  
  
Han Solo looks a bit surprised at having his demands met, but he sits down along with Luke, and Chewie. The droids remain standing.

**Mon Mothma:** As I was saying, at this point we have no options. Our little traitor has no doubt told the Empire the location of our base, but considering he is still with us – unidentified too – it would be foolish to leave. We can do nothing until the traitor in question is caught. Until that time I believe it will be in our best interests to issue a lockdown. Have everyone go to their quarters and remain there.  
  
**Rieekan:** I agree. Our traitor will probably get nervous at the thought of a lockdown and attempt to leave. We should also post guards at all ships until he is caught. (He turns to the technician.) Is it at all possible for the power to go out again?  
  
**Technician:** Not by itself, but I suggest we post guards there too.  
  
**Dodonna:** Good idea. Until then gentle beings.  
  
Everyone rises, except Han Solo.  
  
**Solo (Quietly, as if to himself):** You better live, Leia, so you can tell these guys how they should have gone about catching this bastard.

* * *

**Falcon Ship Log **

**Day 26, Month 7, Year 3043  
**

**Under normal circumstances I wouldn't mind being locked in the Falcon, but right now I just wanna be in sick-bay with Leia. Wanna see her open her eyes, smile at me. Wanna hear her tell the doctors she's fine and she'll be leaving now, if you please. Only Leia Organa could sweet talk her way out of a hospital.  
  
Obviously I haven't left yet. I mean, I pride myself on being a cold, heartless, mercenary as much as the next guy, just not when Leia's lying on a bunk with a hole in her hip. I'll leave just as soon as she gets better and we find the asshole who did this to her. Cause she will get better. She's gonna be fine. I don't care what the doctors say, I don't care how much blood she's lost.  
  
She just can't... She'll be fine. She has to be.** **

* * *

**

**Message sent at 2453 hours, Day 26, Month 7, Year 3043  
**  
Captain Solo,  
  
We have caught our culprit. If you wish, you may return to the meeting room now.  
  
The High Council

* * *

**Meeting Transcript: On Subject of Whether or Not to Leave For Hoth**  
  
Yep, still me, Janson. Don't worry though; I gave the other guy some food. He'll be fine. Now, on to the important stuff:  
  
We have found the idiot who shot Leia. Turns out it was Macer Kit. She was caught trying to steal one of the X-wings and is currently locked up. She stated, when questioned, that the Empire did indeed know the position of the current rebel base here on Maroduos 5. However, she said, they did not know that our next base was Hoth. The question the Council faces is to believe her.  
  
Our crowd is sitting around the meeting table, with the absence of the tech (Lucky bastard. It's one in the morning.)  
  
**Mon Mothma:** I don't trust her.  
  
**Solo:** Well, no one trusts an imp.  
  
**Mon Mothma:** Please try to refrain from comment, Captain Solo.  
  
**Solo:** Hey, you invited us back.  
  
**Mon Mothma:** I didn't. Rieekan did.  
  
**Solo:** Point is; I'm here.  
  
**Mon Mothma (Under her breath):** I wish you weren't.  
  
**Solo (Angrily):** Hey!  
  
**Rieekan:** Ah, we're wasting time here people.  
  
**Mon Mothma (Looking embarrassed.):** Right. Well. As I was saying I think she's lying.  
  
**Janson:** Actually, the record has you saying you don't trust her.  
  
**Mon Mothma:** Well now I'm saying I think she's lying. Can we continue?  
  
**Janson:** Please do.  
  
All is quiet except the grinding of our Supreme Commander's teeth.  
  
**Rieekan:** But why would she lie? If we move to Hoth and the imps attack, she goes down too.  
  
**Dodonna:** True. But what if she wants to play martyr?  
  
**Solo:** She doesn't strike me as the kind of person who would do that.  
  
**Mon Mothma:** She also didn't strike us as the kind of person to be an imperial spy.  
  
**Rieekan:** It might not be wise if we move now anyway, with so many in sick-bay. I know that Leia, for instance, might not survive the journey.  
  
**Mon Mothma:** We would be better off moving to save all our lives than not moving to save a few.  
  
**Dodonna:** And if the imps know of Hoth and catch us in space-  
  
**Mon Mothma**: It will be infinitely better than if they catch us grounded.  
  
**Solo:** Wait, what d'you mean, Leia won't survive the trip?  
  
**Chewbacca:** (Well, he said something that sounded like "Grrah". I think he was agreeing with Solo.)  
  
**Rieekan:** It means exactly what it sounds like. Leia is not strong enough to be moved at this point.  
  
**Luke:** Maybe we should wait a few days, then move. At least long enough for her to get stronger.  
  
**Mon Mothma:** We cannot hold up an entire evacuation for one girl.  
  
**Solo (Threateningly):** And why not?  
  
**Rieekan (Putting a hand on Solo's arm):** Because the entire base could be destroyed. I don't think Leia would want us to wait for her, Han.  
  
Solo slumps back in his seat, looking dejected.  
  
**Mon Mothma:** Shall we issue a full scale evacuation, then.  
  
**Dodonna:** If we leave for Hoth now there will be no food and minimal medical supplies there.  
  
**Mon Mothma:** I'd prefer to be hungry than full and dead.  
  
**Rieekan:** Issue the evacuation.  
  
**Luke:** What about Leia?  
  
**Rieekan:** We will just have to be very careful moving her. Am I right in assuming you prefer her close to you, Captain Solo?  
  
Solo nods. He looks very pale.  
  
**Rieekan:** Then Leia will fly in the Falcon.  
  
**Janson:** Leia's gonna be alright, Han.  
  
**Solo (In an attempt at his old banter):** If she's not I'm going to stuff that data pad down your throat.  
  
**Janson:** You won't be able to. I'm going to stuff it down that Kit chick's throat.  
  
**Luke:** Get in line.

* * *

**Message sent at 0234 hours, Day 27, Month 7, Year 3043  
**  
ATTENTION REBELS:  
  
All personal board a transport. Any transport. This is an emergency evacuation.  
  
This is not a test.  
  
The High Council

* * *

**Yet another Cliffie. I'd better not make a habbit out of this...**

**Tell me what you think!**

**LL**


	12. The Lame Declaration

**Yes, I have an update. Please, no fainting.**

**Oh, and about the whole a blaster wound to the hip isn't that serious - true. But I have an excuse. Leia lost alot of blood (and she's small, so she doesn't have too much to begin with).**

**And, while we're at it, how much farther should I take this? I was originally going to stop when I got to the beginning of ESB, but now I don't know... This is so much fun! Should I keep going?**

**Dr. Tamwe: **I'm guessing from your writing that you are probably either an adult or a very mature teenager. And THANK YOU for using correct spelling in your review. I hope you like the characterizations.

**crazy4spike: **Thanks! I'm glad I made you laugh!

**Crystals-faerie:** Thank you!

**mirielle: **Thank you! And thanks for letting me know about that line in the NJO books. I haven't read them. :( I still can't decide whether or not to make them kiss.

**suzyq: **Thank you! And the last chapter didn't have enough Han/Leia action for you? Han was almost told that Leia loved him!! :p Don't worry though; there'll be plenty of action on Ord Mantell! (Which is coming up soon.)

**princess5013: **Here you go.

**minimindbender: **Thank you! And I certainly hope that someone will publish more books around this era! It's my favourite time period.

_...Probably wouldn't be as entertaining as this, though._

Aww! Thank you **MMB.**

**Aguila: **Thank you!

**RivendellWriter: **Wow! Thanks for showing me the poem. I read it and it's really good. I wonder who wrote it?

Oh**, **would you mind if I used a bit of it to wrap up my story. You know, sort of a quote at the end. I won't unless you tell me I can.

**reena-blue: **Thank you!

**Mara-look-alike: **Sorry! Don't worry, though. I won't kill off anyone (except a few OC's)

**Pokey1984: **Very true about the blaster comment. But I have an excuse! Leia's very small and she lost alot of blood.

I'm also going to appologise in advance for anymore medical slips like that one. I'm not too sure of what's serious and what's not. :D

Thanks for the review!

**Harlequin:** Thank you!

**liz: **Thank you!

**A Star Wars Fanatic: **Ha! Don't worry, I won't be killing anybody. Except, like I said, a few OC's. (Like those kids.)

I can't believe you check on this story that often! You made my day!

**valsolo: **Thank you! And the trip promises to be interesting.

**Sithspawn-13: **Well, we wouldn't want you to go insane. (Or would we...) Kidding! :D

Thanks for the review!

**Pitdroid: **Yes, they're both hopelessly in love. Except for the fact that the other has no knowledge!

**Sweetdeath04:** Yes, you have persueded me to update! Glad you watched Star Wars! Isn't Han hot?

**SailorLeia: **Thank you!

Okay, shameless plug for **SL **here: She has a new Han/Leia story. It's called **The Loveless Bride**. Go read it! (At least, I'm asuming that's yours **SL.**)

**arrow maker: **Sorry this took so long.

**Kazzy: **Addicted is good! Thank you!!

**stormygurlz: **Thank you!

**owphoenix: **Thank you!

**Prisoner 24601: **Thank you!

**LadySephiroth: **Okay, for the blaster excuse see my reply to Pokey1984. But thanks for the review.

**I just want to thank all the reviewers. You guys keep me writing.**

**All righty then. Let's go.**

**

* * *

Falcon Ship Log **

**Day 29, Month 7, Year 3043  
**

**On route to Hoth.  
  
Leia's finally conscious. You'd think a woman with a critical blaster wound would be a bit quieter. I came in here to avoid her latest demand (a glass of water) and to appreciate these last time parts in a relatively warm environment before we arrive. (Chewie's suggestion.) Sith, if deep space is warmer than Hoth, it might be time to start worrying.  
  
The medic said that Her Highness should be alright until we get to Hoth. Supposedly she lost all this blood before they could cover the wound with synth-flesh (no wonder, she's such a tiny thing it would probably take less than three time parts to drain it all), but she'll hold until we can get her to base and get her more. That's all fine and good, unfortunately they forgot to mention was that the lost of blood would in no way affect her mouth. Shame.  
  
You know, I'm beginning to wonder more and more about the brass. This latest evacuation is sure to go down in Alliance history, what with all the panicked people runnin' for the transports. Some idiots even tried to climb aboard the Falcon. Chewie had to go out and brush some off the hull, and even after that they only stopped trying to get on when I threatened to blast 'em with the belly-gun.  
  
For the first while after we took off I had either Chewie or Goldenrod (who somehow managed to get in when we weren't looking, maybe when we were trying to get that guy off the view port) sit beside the unconscious Princess and just, I dunno, watch. Leia had looked really sick when we moved her from the med-center to the Falcon, and passed out halfway. (Which I was assured was "normal" by the medic – at least, I think that's what he said. I couldn't tell because he was trying not to drop the limp-bodied Leia.) I don't really trust those medics and I wasn't about to have Her Highness start to go into convulsions, or something, during the trip. For practical reasons only, of course; I don't want any dead bodies on my hands. That would be interesting to explain to the brass – "Yep, she musta died. Where? Probably somewhere around the Placian System, can't be too sure. I'm sure it wasn't too painful. Oh hey, Rieekan, don't cry..."  
  
So when we were in hyperspace even I sat with her, just for a bit. Naturally that's the time she wakes up. Her Worship gets this crazy idea that I was sitting there all day and night (Which I wasn't! Only a day and _half_ of the night) and teases me about it. The woman wouldn't shut it, even when I gave her A-class excuses. Oh no! She just laughs; that pretty little I-really-don't-know-it-drives-all-men-crazy kind of laugh that makes me want to kiss her cross-eyed. And then, get this, along with driving me crazy she mocks me. Not jokes, not teases, but mocks. Sarcastically.  
  
"Oh, don't worry Han, I won't tell the other mercenaries that you were concerned as to whether I lived or died. We wouldn't want you to get kicked out of I'm-Only-In-It-For-The-Money anonymous..." I coulda set her straight, but she was still real pale and she got all dizzy if she moved her head too quick – 'sides, it was nice to see her smile. Because the whole rest of the time she was avoiding my eyes, speaking in monosyllables, and blushing every so often. It was like she was shy – but, I mean, come on. This is Leia!  
  
I'm still leaving. I swear. Just waiting until Leia's better.** **

* * *

**

_Journal of Princess Leia Organa _

_29th Day, 7th Month, 3043rd Year_

  
  
_Gods, this hurts. But no painkillers until we get to Hoth; the Falcon has absolutely no decent medical supplies. It's a wonder the good Captain isn't dead.  
  
I suppose being well enough to write is a good sign. However, feeling woozy every time I look at the glowing data pad's screen, isn't.  
  
Actually, I'm in a pretty much constant state of wooziness.  
  
The worst part is every time Han comes in to check up on me I simply cannot meet his eyes. I'm terrified that Luke told him about my little slip-up back on Maroduos 5. But Han's not acting that different, except maybe for being a bit nicer (I _am_ bedridden). So now I'm caught between worrying that he knows and will mention it, and worrying that he knows and doesn't care. I'm so afraid he thinks of me as a little girl.  
  
Ugh, I preferred unconsciousness – almost. But, like I said, no pills to make that wish come true. I was telling – complaining – to Han about this, trying to get things between us back to the norm (whatever that is), and you know what he says? "I could always get Chewie to knock you out the ol'fashioned way, Your Worship." Honestly, that man.  
  
Sith, I am in pain. Now I know why weapons were banned on Alderaan.  
  
(I still have troubles writing casual things like that, but recently my therapist suggested I try to mention Alderaan in normal conversation. She says it will help me become cope with when other people mention it, which I still have difficulties with. Oh dear – there I go with the "therapist" thing again. Maybe I'm really not making progress after all.)  
  
I guess I really don't want to be unconscious, because that's when the nightmares came again. I haven't had them for awhile now, and I finally had begun to believe that I was free of their clutches. I suppose not. Another thing you were wrong about, Organa.  
  
They were the same, the same as they always are. At first it was good. At first I was home, Alderaan, in my bed. I could hear my father in the next room, could feel my nightgown, the one I loved as a child, scrape against my legs as I tossed and turned, could smell the good, musty sheet-smell that came after washing day. And I could see! See my old room, back before it was filled with data-pads, papers, and all things political. Back when stuffed toys still occupied every surface and the only books were stories about princesses and knights and happy endings.  
  
And I knew, as you do in dreams, that I was a small child; not a grown woman, not a rebel leader, and that if I wished I could go into the next room and be comforted by my father. Such a novelty. So I got out of my childhood bed, and walked down the hallway.  
  
Here, the dream turned into a memory.  
  
When I reached my father's study, he was speaking with a man, in a business meeting of some sort. In real life, when this had actually happened, I was six years old and had no idea of who the man standing beside my Daddy was. All my six-year-old self knew was that he frightened her, because he was so tall and clothed in all black and had strange, heavy breathing. Only later were we formerly introduced. But in my dream, I recognized Vader.  
  
Then the dream veered off the truth and into the realm of nightmares.  
  
Vader grabbed me, and suddenly we were on the Death Star. There was screaming and cold and dark. And then more memories. A jumble of memories that I work so hard to forget during daylight.  
  
Empty cells and interrogation droids and _"Now, Your Highness, we shall discuss the location of the hidden rebel base"_, but no, I stay silent and then more hard benches and blissful unconsciousness, but suddenly jerked awake and many, many storm troopers – too many – laying on the floor looking at discarded white amour beside me, then blackness and suddenly a sterile medical facility with doctors that look right through me, later cleaned up, taken to Tarkin with Vader behind me, told to look out window of Death Star: planet destroyer, aimed at – Alderaan, oh Daddy – how can they be this cruel?, "_Then name the system", _lie, you have to lie, _"Dantooine, they're on Dantooine",_ oh please don't let them check, oh, thank the maker, they aren't, but then why are they still -_ "You're far too trusting", _struggling, against Vader, blackness incarnate, then a green beam of light, and oddly wondering at the irony; green, the colour of trees, of new life, is to be the death of so many –_ "No!", _oh Daddy, and then the unanswerable question; why?, whywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywh_

-  
  
(The rest was written a bit later; I must have passed out. Han woke me up, and told me – condescendingly – that I "shouldn't write about the Death Star" because it'll "stress you out, an' you know that ain't good for you. With the blood loss an' everything." Honestly, having the nerve to read a girl's diary! How much blood can stress use anyways, hmm?)  
  
But still, Han was very kind on the trip from the med-center on Maroduos 5 to the Falcon, where I, silly me, tried to walk on my own. He told the medics to let me, and didn't say anything when I collapsed against the head medic. Well, actually, he could have said something after I passed out...  
  
Even so, when I was half-conscious I felt him tuck me into his bunk on the Falcon, something my father used to do.  
  
Then when I woke again, woke from the nightmares, Han was beside me again. Beside me with his tousled hair and hazel eyes, which had bags underneath them, and – Gods, I could have kissed him. Of course I didn't (already made that mistake once), but he was such a nice cure to my nightmare. He realized I was awake and that lopsided smile slide up his face: "Hi, Sweetheart." I almost forgot about my hip.  
  
When Chewie informed me, through Threepio, that Han had been beside me all through the day and night, I forgot about it completely. Han actually blushed when I first mentioned it, but that could have been the lighting... To my credit, I didn't tease him about it too much; only a few times, really. He sure has a short temper. And he came up with the funniest excuses for being beside me ("You see, sweetheart, somehow I was spot- welded to this chair...)  
  
I hope he doesn't know. But wouldn't it be a relief if he does...  
  
Damn him. Where is that glass of water?

* * *

**Message sent at 0600 hours, Day 30, Month 7, Year 3043  
**  
ATTENTION REBELS:  
  
Welcome to Hoth. We realize that the supplies and facilities are limited here, but we are doing our best to bring in supplies from Maroduos 5. Bear with us.  
  
The High Counci

* * *

**Message sent at 0713 hours, Day 30, Month 7, Year 3043  
**  
The facilities are "limited"? That's the understatement of the year. We have no heat, no sick-bay, and practically no food – I would label this a disaster of I was the brass.  
  
Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 0714 hours, Day 30, Month 7, Year 3043  
**  
Good thing you aren't the brass then. Can you guys picture Hobs in command? "Attention rebels, we're running out of food and medical supplies – but don't worry. You can eat snow and I hear that freezing numbs pain. Speaking of numbing, we have no heat and we're stationed on the coldest planet in the galaxy. We have labeled this a first-class disaster. You have my permission to panic. Oh, and by the way, just in case you haven't heard, we're losing the war. Have a nice day."  
  
Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 0714 hours, Day 30, Month 7, Year 3043**  
  
Hey, at least they'd know the truth.  
  
Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 0715 hours, Day 30, Month 7, Year 3043  
**  
And they'd know it the whole time they were jumping into ships and taking off to join the Academy.  
  
But really, at least there aren't any imperials.  
  
Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0716 hours, Day 30, Month 7, Year 3043**  
  
ATTENTION REBELS:  
  
Imperials have been spotted near this system. We ask you not to panic as it appears to be simply a routine sweep. However, until further notice, no ships shall enter or leave the planet. This unfortunately means we will have no supplies for awhile.  
  
The High Council

* * *

**Message sent at 0718 hours, Day 30, Month 7, Year 3043**  
  
Good job mate. You jinxed us.  
  
Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 0719 hours, Day 30, Month 7, Year 3043**  
  
Okay Wesy boy, just for that, weeks from now when we're running out of food, water (not to mention other important necessities) waiting for the imps to move on, and the brass divides the remaining crumbs into portions: I am so getting yours.  
  
Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 0720 hours, Day 30, Month 7, Year 3043**  
  
Hey, it wasn't my fault, I swear. (Though, it would be neat to have the ability to jinx something like that...)  
  
And it is impossible to run out of water on a planet made of ice.  
  
Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0720 hours, Day 30, Month 7, Year 3043  
**  
Shut up, Janson.  
  
And "other important necessities"? What might those be, Hobs? Alcohol?  
  
Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 0721 hours, Day 30, Month 7, Year 3043  
**  
No, women. What with all of us men running out of food and everything there aren't gonna be too many left. Dibs on the blond from supply-bay.  
  
Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 0722 hours, Day 30, Month 7, Year 3043  
**  
Hobbie! There are children present.  
  
Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0723 hours, Day 30, Month 7, Year 3043  
**  
Hey, I'm not that young!  
  
Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 0725 hours, Day 30, Month 7, Year 3043  
**  
(I knew he was following this conversation!) No one said you were, Lukie darling.  
  
Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 0726 hours, Day 30, Month 7, Year 3043**  
  
Leave him alone, Hobs.  
  
And if you get my last bowl of crumbs, can I get Princess Leia? (Since we're claiming women and everything.)  
  
Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0726 hours, Day 30, Month 7, Year 3043  
**  
You mean the one that Solo recently just carried off of the Falcon? The one now lying in the pathetic excuse for sick-bay, passing out from lack of blood?  
  
Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 0727 hours, Day 30, Month 7, Year 3043**  
  
Oh yeah. Never mind. I forgot about that for a minute.  
  
Wait, why doesn't someone just donate the blood she need?  
  
Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0729 hours, Day 30, Month 7, Year 3043**  
  
Are you really that anxious to shag her, Wesy?  
  
To answer your question (asked with Leia's best intentions in mind or not): there aren't enough medical supplies to perform a transplant like that.  
  
Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 0730 hours, Day 30, Month 7, Year 3043  
**  
Surely someone has a simple hypo?  
  
Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 0732 hours, Day 30, Month 7, Year 3043  
**  
Leia has a strange blood type; it doesn't even have a real name. Rare – selective to Jedi's, and there ain't any of them here. If there are, we don't have the equipment to test for the right blood type.  
  
Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 0732 hours, Day 30, Month 7, Year 3043  
**  
How do you know?  
  
Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 0734 hours, Day 30, Month 7, Year 3043**  
  
Friends with one of the medics.  
  
Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 0735 hours, Day 30, Month 7, Year 3043  
**  
You mean you're sleeping with her.  
  
Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0735 hours, Day 30, Month 7, Year 3043**  
  
Hey guys, do you think Leia's gonna be okay?  
  
Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 0736 hours, Day 30, Month 7, Year 3043  
**  
Don't worry, Luke. Solo won't let her die.  
  
Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0737 hours, Day 30, Month 7, Year 3043**  
  
If he does Rieekan'll kill him.  
  
Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 0738 hours, Day 30, Month 7, Year 3043  
**  
Hell, boy; I'll kill him.  
  
Hobs

* * *

**Meeting Transcript: On Subject of What do About the Imperial Activity  
**  
Typed by the _normal_ typist!  
  
Declaration: There shall be no ships permitted to land or take off from Hoth for a ten day period. Hopefully by then the Imperials will have cleared out.

* * *

**Message sent at 1056 hours, Day 30, Month 7, Year 3043**  
  
Mon Mothma, you know I believe that Kit lied. To stay here with the imps so close would be suicide.  
  
Dodonna

* * *

**Message sent at 1057 hours, Day 30, Month 7, Year 3043  
**  
As would leaving. And "imps", Jan? I thought you were beneath such nicknames.  
  
Mon Mothma

* * *

**Message sent at 1059 hours, Day 30, Month 7, Year 3043**  
  
I find the troops slang to be catching sometimes. But it seems to me that we're in a lose/lose situation. Die on the ground or in the air.  
  
Dodonna

* * *

**Message sent at 1101 hours, Day 30, Month 7, Year 3043**  
  
I myself prefer to die where someone can see me bleed, thank you. Besides, there is the offset chance Kit didn't tell them the base location before she was captured.  
  
Mon Mothma

* * *

**Message sent at 1101 hour, Day 30, Month 7, Year 3043**  
  
But ten days, Mon Mothma? Is that really wise? We're running out of food, we have no heat, medical supplies – what will we tell the troops?  
  
Dodonna

* * *

**Message sent at 1057 hours, Day 30, Month 7, Year 3043**  
  
What we shall tell them, General, is that it is safer to go hungry then to face discovery.  
  
Mon Mothma

* * *

_Journal of Princess Leia Organa _

_30th Day, 7th Month, 3043rd Year_

  
  
_The medics have just informed me that the High Council has issued a lockdown.  
  
For ten days.  
  
Apparently imperials were sighted near Hoth, doing what was probably a routine sweep. Honestly, I leave for a few days and they panic.  
  
Of course, this means that the troops can't work for fear acquiring an injury that we cannot simply patch up with ice (one of the few medical supplies we're not short on) and that no one will have a decent meal for a while. At any rate, that's what the medic said to me, but I've long since learned to interpret military bantha-dung. Basically it means that we have absolutely no medical supplies whatsoever (a subtle way of telling me that I'm screwed) and that our food will last for about five days of the ten. Great.  
  
The head medical droid also told me, in his oh-so-soothing monotone, that I was unlikely to survive without blood for too much longer. He actually (is it right to call droids "he"?) told me I should write off my possessions before the human medic waved him away. Ha. "And my other blaster shall go to Luke Skywalker..."  
  
The human medic told me that I could probably live through the ten days, but near the end I would probably go into a constant state of unconsciousness... ext, ext. I tuned him out in the end. I trust droids more than humans anyways – it's not in their programming to lie.  
  
I'll be alright. Not counting today, we only have nine days to get through. Not too bad.  
  
Han's really annoyed with the lockdown. Actually, annoyed might be a bit of an understatement. He claims that he has the right to leave whenever he wants. Figures that the man decides he wants to leave when he can't.  
  
I wish he wouldn't, though. Wouldn't decide to leave at all._ _

* * *

_

**Falcon Ship Log **

**Day 30, Month 7, Year 3043  
**

**I should never, ever have agreed to ship Kenobi and the kid to Alderaan, never have even gone into that cantina. My life would have been so much easier.  
  
The brass just herded all us troops into the secondary mess and spat out, no preamble or anything, that we couldn't go anywhere for ten days! What a stupid rule! I should be able to leave whenever I want – I'm not even official.  
  
But my conscience (which is, yep, still alive) keeps rearing its sensible head. It also seems to have developed an unhealthy obsession with Leia's health. Every time I start to feel ticked-off with this ten day rule, and how insulting it is to me, the fact that there are now no medical supplies to help Leia keeps popping up. And whenever I think that I never shoulda gone into the cantina, this little voice says then I would've never met Leia. It's annoying.  
  
So I went and saw Her Highnessness, just to prove to my "inner voice", or whatever, that she was fine. Didn't help. She was all pale, not fighting with me or anything, and the medic droids were all speaking in these hushed, doom-unto-you voices - it was creepy. I had to leave kinda quick.  
  
So now I have to spend the next ten days confined, starving, and worrying about Leia. And it's (b)cold, here! We have no heat on base, but at least the Falcon's warm. Speaking of the Falcon, the brass also says we can't work 'cause there's no medical facility to patch up any injuries. Nobody tells me when to work on my ship! So I'm gonna go work on it now.  
  
According to the Council, this is officially the first day of lockdown. Nine more.** **

* * *

Message sent at 0600 hours, Day 1, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
ATTENTION REBELS:  
  
Welcome to the Second Day of Lockdown. Eight more folks. Hang in there.  
  
The High Council

* * *

**Message sent at 0941 hours, Day 1, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
Oh gods, did you guys see the portions they were serving in Secondary Mess?  
  
Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0941 hours, Day 1, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
Saw them? I couldn't without a magnifier.  
  
Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 0942 hours, Day 1, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
I don't even remember what we ate – I was finished too quickly.  
  
Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 0944 hours, Day 1, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
Did anyone else notice that not only wasn't there enough of it, but it was also frozen? We don't even have enough heat to cook.  
  
Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 0945 hours, Day 1, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
Yeah! It's frickin' cold in this place.  
  
Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0945 hours, Day 1, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
I've turned off the temperature setting on my terminal – it depresses me.  
  
Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 0947 hours, Day 1, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
On a brighter note; at least we don't half to work.  
  
Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 0948 hours, Day 1, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
Lukie boy, you're a sweet kid but your positive attitude is nauseating.  
  
Hobs

* * *

_Journal of Princess Leia Organa _

_1st Day, 8th Month, 3043rd Year  
_

_Oh sweet goddess, it is freezing!  
  
But at least the troops have a few days off; it's good for them. Luke told me earlier today that everyone is basically in a perpetual state of snowball warfare, and I can hear the laughter floating down the hallways. I asked him if the cold is affecting anyone, but he told me that they're all to busy running around to notice. He says that they were a bit annoyed with the small rations, but otherwise unfazed. Luke even seems to be warming to the idea of a "ten-day holiday", as he calls it. He bounced around my room for a while, miraculously not knocking any med-droids, and then rushed back out the door to join the fun. I don't remember ever acting that young.  
  
Han came in sometime later, followed by half of the Rogue Squadron, who were armed with snowballs. They were trying to cajole him into joining a snowball fight ("But Han, with your aim we're sure to beat the brass!") and Han, with his whole I'm-too-jaded-to-throw-spheres-of-frozen-water-at- others attitude, was trying not to laugh at them. It reminded me of children trying to get an adolescent to join in their games.  
  
Han, though, was not to be swayed. He simply pulled up a chair (actually a block of ice attempting to be a seat) and faced me, resolutely turning his back on our so-called elite fighters. "I'm visiting the sick here. Can't you guys appreciate community service?"  
  
The Rogues eventually left (after I threatened to court martial them) but Han stayed (even after the same treatment). He persuaded the droids to get me more blankets, so I was a bit warmer. Then he sat close to me on the edge of the bed, so close I wasn't sure if I was dizzy from blood loss or the scent of his aftershave.  
  
Oh, for the love of the maker – I'm turning into a simpering idiot!_ _

* * *

_**Falcon Ship Log **

**Day 1, Month 8, Year 3043**

****

**The brass has decided to starve us all. There's gotta be an imperial plant up in the ranks somewhere, and this whole thing is just away to get us really, really weak before battle.  
  
Worse, it's really cold in sick-bay. I could hear Leia's teeth chattering on my last visit. I even tried to purposely rile her, just to see her act normal. She didn't take the bait, sorta just sat there. It was unnerving.  
  
Yes, Han Solo the mercenary is worried. Laugh all you want.** **

* * *

**

**Message sent at 0600 hours, Day 2, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
ATTENTION REBELS:  
  
Welcome to the Third Day of Lockdown. We ask you to refrain from further snowball attacks on the high Council as Supreme Commander Mon Mothma's computer terminal is still recovering from severe water logging. Seven more days, troops.  
  
The High Council

* * *

**Message sent at 0923 hours, Day 2, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
Is it just me, or yesterday did the meals get smaller as the day went on?  
  
Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 0924 hours, Day 2, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
Yep, they definitely got smaller. And breakfast was even more minuscule today. I'm proud to say that I brought a magnifier to this morning's meal and, after painstaking research, have determined that what we were consuming was actually very watered-down soup.  
  
Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 0924 hours, Day 2, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
Thank you, _Doctor_ Antilles. And here I was thinking that I was eating condensation from the washing units.  
  
Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0925 hours, Day 2, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
Boys, as much as I hate to break up this discussion, I have a proposition for you. Sick-bay where Leia's staying is really freezing. I know you guys are good at improvisation, so can you come up with some kinda heat source for her?  
  
-Solo

* * *

**Message sent at 0927 hours, Day 2, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
Oh my, do I detect some concern from the Good Captain?  
  
Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0927 hours, Day 2, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
Be still my beating heart.  
  
Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 0927 hours, Day 2, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
Is Leia okay?  
  
Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 0928 hours, Day 2, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
That, Han, is they're way of telling you that we will most certainly help out your lady.  
  
Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 0929 hours, Day 2, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
Her Highness is _not_ my lady!  
  
-Solo

* * *

**Message sent at 0930 hours, Day 2, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
Whatever you say, boy.  
  
Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 0930 hours, Day 2, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
I'm older than you.  
  
-Solo

* * *

**Message sent at 0932 hours, Day 2, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
Wait Solo, what's in this for us? Huh, lover-boy?  
  
Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0932 hours, Day 2, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
Hmm... You do this and I won't give you a face full of snow.  
  
-Solo

* * *

**Message sent at 0933 hours, Day 2, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
Wonderful incentive.  
  
Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0934 hours, Day 2, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
What he means is that we'll get right on it.  
  
Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 0936 hours, Day 2, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
And don't you dare tell Leia I told you to do this!  
  
Solo out.

* * *

**Message sent at 0937 hours, Day 2, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
Are you guys thinking what I'm thinking?  
  
Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 0938 hours, Day 2, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
Yeah. That is such a cool way to leave a conversation!  
  
Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0939 hours, Day 2, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
No. How are we gonna do this?  
  
Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 0940 hours, Day 2, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
Well, I thought that, as we were installing whatever heating device we come up with, we could always cough out Han's name. You know, like: cough "Han's" cough "idea" cough, cough.  
  
Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 0939 hours, Day 2, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
Subtle Hobbie, but I was thinking more along the lines of getting a copy of this conversation to Leia...  
  
Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 0940 hours, Day 2, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
No, no! I mean how are we going to get a heating source?!  
  
Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 0941 hours, Day 2, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
Oh that. Don't worry, Skywalker; I have a plan.  
  
Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0942 hours, Day 2, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
I'm worried.  
  
Luke

* * *

_Journal of Princess Leia Organa _

_2nd Day, 8th Month, 3043rd Year_

  
  
_Oh, blessed warmth! Coming from a strange source, mind you, but blessed nonetheless.  
  
You see, I was just beginning to contemplate the option of knocking myself out with the water pitcher by my bunk to end the boredom (the snowball fights had moved to another sector of the base) when I heard this awful commotion outside my room. Turns out it was the Rogue Squadron, complete with Luke, lugging what looked suspiciously like the engine of an X-wing.  
  
Luke told me breathlessly that I had looked cold in here, and so they had brought me a heater. I must have looked unconvinced because he hastily instructed the others to "crank her up." As soon as they turned it on, warmth flowed over me.  
  
It's loud, it smells, and it requires fuel changes, but it's a heater.  
  
I thanked all of them, but when I asked them where they had gotten the engine, they simply winked at me, cast glances at each other and wouldn't say anything more, even when I crossed-examined them – and I'm a very good cross-examiner. The whole ordeal was very strange, but the warmth was seductive so I kept my mouth closed. I'm still half expecting an angry pilot to burst through the door and demand the return of his engine.  
  
Before they left, thought Wes Janson told me to "look at the tag attached to your personal heater." (Well, in truth he told me that between bouts of coughing. He must have a horrendous cold.) I was startled to see that there was actually a little card there, the kind you'd find on a gift, not an X-wing's engine. It read:  
  
Curtsy of Han Solo... Well, not really, but it was his idea to get you a heater. So, he's responsible and, yeah – here you go, Leia. Happy heat waves. We all love ya.  
  
-The Rogue Squadron and Han Solo (Anonymously)  
  
His way of telling me he knows that I- ...have a childish infatuation?  
  
Alright, that's it. An Organa is not suppose to act like this! I'm not afraid of Han, it's not as if the universe will end or begin with this relationship! I refuse to go on acting like a child! I'll simply go to him and explain calmly that I-  
  
If I can't write it down in a letter to no one, then how will I say it to him?  
  
Alright, here goes:  
  
I, Leia Organa, love Han Solo. And I haven't even kissed him!  
  
What a lame declaration._ _

* * *

_**Falcon Ship Log **

**Day 2, Month 8, Year 3043  
**

**The guys have given Leia an engine. Creative.  
  
Falcon's heating unit blew, so now Chewie and me are just as cold as the rest of them. I spent pretty much the whole day trying to fix it so I didn't get to see Leia. Probably for the best because I have a bad feeling that the boys told her whose idea the makeshift heater was.**

* * *

**Meeting Transcript: On Subject of Stolen Engine  
**  
Declaration: While the High Council does understand and sympathize with Pilot Frar Tekiin and the loss of his engine, they simply cannot do anything right now. After all, it isn't as if Mr. Tekiin is going anywhere anytime soon.

* * *

**Message sent at 0600 hours, Day 3, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
ATTENTION REBELS:  
  
Welcome to the Fourth Day of Lockdown.  
  
The High Council

* * *

**Message sent at 0833 hours, Day 3, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
I guess they couldn't think of anything positive to say.  
  
Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 0834 hours, Day 3, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
Well, neither can I.  
  
Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 0834 hours, Day 3, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
Hobs, you wouldn't be able to think of anything positive to say on your wedding day.  
  
Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0836 hours, Day 3, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
Sure I would: At least the in-laws are dead.  
  
Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 0837 hours, Day 3, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
Why are they dead?  
  
Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 0837 hours, Day 3, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
I killed them.  
  
Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 0838 hours, Day 3, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
This is a little off topic, but I wonder how Han and Leia are doing now that Han knows Leia loves him.  
  
Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0840 hours, Day 3, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
Well, actually, he doesn't know.  
  
Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 0841 hours, Day 3, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
Say what?  
  
Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 0842 hours, Day 3, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
I was going to tell him when the power went off. And after that Leia was shot, and everything...  
  
Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 0844 hours, Day 3, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
Well, we can't rightly tell him now. He's not leaving anymore because Leia was shot. We should only tell him when he's going to leave.  
  
Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 0844 hours, Day 3, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
You sure?  
  
Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0845 hours, Day 3, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
Positive.  
  
Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 0846 hours, Day 3, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
You know, guys, I don't think this is going to work, this whole Han and Leia thing. What if Han leaves? Then Leia'll be alone and heartbroken, and we'll lose the war, and Han'll die. It's gonna be terrible, mark my words.  
  
Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 0847 hours, Day 3, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
Luke, I do believe you're acting a bit jaded. Good job.  
  
Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 0849 hours, Day 3, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
Yeah, well four days without enough food or heat will do that to a guy.  
  
Luke

* * *

_Journal of Princess Leia Organa _

_3rd Day, 8th Month, 3043rd Year_

  
  
_I couldn't do it.  
  
I tired, really I did. I just couldn't.  
  
I was so angry with myself, and I took it out on Han. I told him to leave me alone. I was so distraught I forgot to tease him about the engine.  
  
He came to visit and I just pushed him away.  
  
To top it all off I'm having a hard time staying awake. I have a huge headache just from writing this. It'll go nicely with my heartache._ _

* * *

_

**Falcon Ship Log **

**Day 3, Month 8, Year 3043**

****

**I don't understand women. I really don't.  
  
I went to visit Her Worship, just to see how she was doing. And she's all moody, looking at me like there's something she wants to say. She even opened her mouth once, but she closed it. Then she told me to go away, leave her alone. Well sheesh; I didn't even do anything this time.  
  
But every time I try and get mad at her I keep** **thinking about how pale she is.**

**Damn, this conscience stuff is really over-rated.**

* * *

**The rest of the ten day wait will continue in our next chapter. Until then, folks.**

****

**LL**


	13. Lockdown

**Hello all! Yes, an update! **

**The settings may be a little strange in this post; my computer's acting up. But hey; at least it's a post.**

**Onward and upward...**

**City Girl Rach:** Thank you!

**darthmason:** Yay! A ! Nice to see ya!

**Mara-lool-alike: **I updated!

**iamof18: **Thank you!

**dm1: **Yay! Someone caught the cursty/courtesy thing. (And yes, it was intentional. Those poor Rogues - they can't spell.)

**RivendellWriter: **Yeah! Two reviews from you!

**stormygurlz: **Thank you!

**Lauren: **Thank you! And thanks for pointing out the ect/ext thing.

**rogouette: **Whatdo you mean, unaksed for two cents? I crave reviews! I live off them. So thank you for your very much asked for two cents!

**New Girl: **Still going...

**Ieyre:** No! Please don't use the Force on me! I've updated - look.

**MK in La La Land: **Thank you!

**suzyq: **Thank you!

**Pitdroid: **Thanks for the tip about blood loss... I used it in the chapter!

And you're right; Han won't leave with Leia hurt.

**Naran: **Wes could be the therapist. Hmm...

Thanks for the review!

**MANM (I'm lazy, so I shortened your name. Sorry.): **Thank you!

**Brittany: **You check this twice a day? I'm flattered. You did indeed make my day, my dear.

I guess I better start updating faster.

**Dendera: **First off; I love you! You reviewed for every single chapter!

_I love this story. If it weren't entirely illogical (and illegal) I would marry it._

Ha! That was funny!

I can't believe that you reviewed every chapter...

Did I mention that I love you?

**A Star Wars Fanatic: **Thank you! Gotta love the Rogues.

**Sithspawn-13: **_By the way, about the blaster wound: I don't think blaster burns bleed. Don't they sear the flesh?_

Ahem, well. I have a perfectly good explanation for this....

Umm....

Runs and hides

Alright; you got me. I guess it's too late to change it now, though.

**Celebroch Earandir: **Thank you!

**GreatOne: **I'll post faster over at I promise!

**SailorLeia: **Thank you for mentioning _my _story! And you gotta love Han in denial.

**dm1: **_Maybe Luke eventually gets around to telling Han, that's why he says "I know" when Leia finally spills the beans._

My lips are sealed.

And thanks for pointing out the tired thing.

**Sweetdeath04: **Begging will get you everywhere...

Thank you!

**Auguila: **Thank you!

**Kazzy: **_Am I the only one sitting here screaming "Blood tranfusion? What are you talking about? You have her bloody twin running round throwing snowballs at people!" I mean honestly. It's so frustrating to know about Luke, and know that no one else does._

Bwhahaha! I am evil!

I hate being cold too. But I live in Canada...

**Reena-blue: **I updated!

**Icey: **Thank you!

**owphoenix: **Thank you!

**RivendellWriter: **Yay! I can use the poem. (Of course, I have no idea when this is going to end...)

Thanks for the review!

**Lady Theadora: **There is more!

**crazy4spike: **_Okay, just wanted to let you know that because of this chapter I am now going to close every email with: Lori out. Because that's "such a cool way to leave a conversation!"_

Ha! Thanks for the review.

**mirelle: **_High Council evidently does not understand their pilots, at the very least. Wes should've been locked up a long, long time ago._

Ha! Too true.

**Wow, that was alot. Thanks guys. Ord Mantell is coming up. I promise!**

**And we're off...**

****

**

* * *

**

**Message sent at 0600 hours, Day 4, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
ATTENTION REBELS:  
  
Welcome to the Fifth Day of Lockdown. As we are currently short on water we need volunteers to go out to collect ice for breakfast. Unfortunately, as we have no heat, we will not be able to melt the ice you collect down to water. So you will simply have to suck on it.  
  
-The High Council

* * *

****

****

**Message sent at 0943 hours, Day 4, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
We're eating ice! Is anyone else the slightest bit concerned?  
  
-Hobs

* * *

****

****

**Message sent at 0943 hours, Day 4, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
I'll say; I nearly broke a tooth. What about you, Wes? You didn't look to happy this morning.  
  
-Luke

* * *

****

****

**Message sent at 0945 hours, Day 4, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
True, but my concern derives mainly from the fact that my ice piece had what looked suspiciously like dung in it.  
  
-Janson

* * *

****

****

**Message sent at 0945 hours, Day 4, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
Say what?  
  
-Hobs

* * *

****

****

**Message sent at 0946 hours, Day 4, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
Well Wes, in light of the fact that I assisted in the gathering of the ice you should be humbled.  
  
-Wedge

* * *

****

****

**Message sent at 0947 hours, Day 4, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
Pardon me?  
  
-Luke

* * *

****

****

**Message sent at 0947 hours, Day 4, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
So, Wedge, I suppose I should hold you responsible for the excrement that was contained in my frozen piece of H²O?  
  
-Janson

* * *

****

****

**Message sent at 0948 hours, Day 4, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
What the bloody hell are you talking about?  
  
-Hobs

* * *

****

****

**Message sent at 0948 hours, Day 4, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
Do you think what I was selecting was under very high surveillance?  
  
-Wedge

* * *

****

**Message sent at 0948 hours, Day 4, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
Knowing you, hardly.  
  
-Janson

* * *

****

**Message sent at 0950 hours, Day 4, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
Hobs, why are they writing all funny?  
  
-Luke

* * *

****

**Message sent at 0951 hours, Day 4, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
I could be wrong but I think they have a bet going on who can speak the 'fanciest'.  
  
-Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 0953 hours, Day 4, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
You thought right. And I'm winning. "You should be humbled", Wedge? That's not grammatically correct.  
  
-Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0954 hours, Day 4, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
How is it not grammatically correct? What you're saying doesn't even make sense. And when was the last time you had a Basic grammar lesson?  
  
-Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 0955 hours, Day 4, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
It don't matter, cause I'm right. You can even ask Leia.  
  
You're wrong.  
  
-Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0955 hours, Day 4, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
Am not.  
  
-Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 0955 hours, Day 4, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
Are too.  
  
-Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0956 hours, Day 4, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
Hobs, could you explain this, please?  
  
-Luke

* * *

****

**Message sent at 0957 hours, Day 4, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
Ah, well... at breakfast they were talking about how Leia spoke really cultured and how they admired it. I honestly don't know how the hell it came to this.  
  
-Hobs

* * *

****

**Message sent at 0958 hours, Day 4, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
Am not.

* * *

****

**Message sent at 0958 hours, Day 4, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
Are too.

* * *

****

**Message sent at 0958 hours, Day 4, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
Am not.

* * *

**Message sent at 0959 hours, Day 4, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
What d'you reckon the winner gets?  
  
-Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 0959 hours, Day 4, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
Loser's ice chips?  
  
-Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 0959 hours, Day 4, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
Okay...  
  
-Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 0959 hours, Day 4, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
Hey, just because they sound the part doesn't mean they're actually smart.  
  
-Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 0959 hours, Day 4, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
Are too.

* * *

_Journal of Princess Leia Organa  
  
4th Day, 8th Month, 3043rd Year_

_  
  
Well, today has been eventful, if nothing else. I spent a good part of the morning planning mediator for some bet Wes and Wedge were having. (They were trying to decide who spoke the "fanciest". Can you imagine? I almost choked on my ice chip.) It was actually rather fun. And it took my attention away from trying to figure out which ice pieces on the bedside table were my breakfast, and which were the spilt contents of my neighbor's ice pack. The only way to spot the difference was to lick said ice pieces, as mine tasted a bit like soup. (The ice from the cold compress was much better.) At least now no one can ever accuse the Alliance of lack of creativity. Or idiocy, for that matter.  
  
Han stopped by too. He brought real soup, in liquid form. (Funny how I've never felt the need to make that distinction before. Ah, what innocence the war takes.) The Falcon's cooking unit still works (but give it time), and Han made the meal seemingly to apologize for the fight his last visit. Since it was actually my fault – and I hadn't had a liquid for awhile – I was forced to let him in. We had a fairly civil conversation, despite it being through mouthfuls of food. Manners suddenly don't seem to matter when you're starving. Funny that. But I've decided that I won't tell him that I-  
  
Well, what he doesn't know can't hurt him.  
  
Of course, almost everyone else knows... (And if the Rogue Squadron knows, it might actually hurt him. Those plans of theirs are borderline suicidal.)  
  
I mean I know, Luke knows, as I said I think the Rogues might know (Luke's many things, bless him, but he can't keep his mouth shut for potamoes), Rieekan's known for years... damn it, I think even Mon Mothma has an idea. And then you, invisible, non-existent pen pal that you are, probably knew even before I did. This is truly pathetic.  
  
If all these people know, then why didn't anyone warn me? Why didn't Carlist come up to me and say "Hey Leia, it looks like you're falling for this scoundrel. Do yourself a favour and re-assign him to another planet now before it's too late"? Why didn't Mon Mothma tell me "Look, I know he's hot, but he will ruin your career"? Why didn't you somehow send me a message through the non-existent pen pal hotline? I would have listened...  
  
I think I may be going insane. I blame Han, the blood loss, and those stupid little patient charts at the end of these hospital beds. I, for one, do not need to look at the filled-in box labeled "Critical Condition" on my diagnosis every morning when I wake. It does not inspire great courage.  
  
At this rate the whole base may know before Han does. It'll be the best kept secret in the Alliance. Years from now, when I'm a lonely old woman, as I walk down the halls everyone will stare and whisper "There goes the crazy woman who was in love with that space pirate. I hear she used to be a princess..."  
  
Oh dear. I'm starting to sound like Threepio.  
  
I must remember to be more positive, my therapist says. (Apparently it's her company's policy to council people even on their death beds – it's in the slogan.) She comes in here once a day with her fake smiles and even more fake nails to try and cheer me up. I'm not too worried about my image; the whole "Princess Leia has a therapist" thing just doesn't seem like to big a deal. Besides, they're all at death's door here, or so incoherent it doesn't matter who they tell. And should there be a leak I've heard that a pillow to the face works fairly quickly.  
  
I suppose I should try; this woman costs a fortune. (Which makes no sense. If I wanted fake lipstick smiles coupled with sage warnings I could always ask Luke to dress like a woman.) But here I go with the positives:  
  
Speaking of Luke, he also sat with me for awhile. My little corner of misery is becoming quite the tourist attraction. (I tried.)  
  
I'll admit I'm almost as uncomfortable around Luke as Han right now. He keeps looking at me strangely, like he's dying to ask if I told Han, but knows it would be rude and interfering.  
  
I'm expecting an inquiry any minute.  
  
I just don't know how I'll answer it.

* * *

_  
  
**Message sent at 1200 hours, Day 4, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
ATTENTION REBELS:  
  
We ask you to please refrain from throwing any food. Considering what our meals are now made up of, it could be potentially dangerous.  
  
-The High Council

* * *

****

**Base Hospital: Patient Log  
**  
**Patient:**Skywalker, Luke  
  
**Injuries:**Cut jaw  
  
**Cause of Injuries:**Hit in jaw with today's breakfast (shards of ice)

* * *

_Journal of Princess Leia Organa  
  
4th Day, 8th Month, 3043rd Year_

___  
  
The problem of how to answer Luke has been solved. However, I have decided that I may need to brush up on my diplomatic training. Whatever happened to no comment, eh Organa?

* * *

_****

**Message sent at 1400 hours, Day 4, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
ATTENTION REBELS:  
  
Since some of you appear to think that being told not to throw your dinner is an invitation to throw everything in sight, next time use this simple rule: If it's alive, dead, natural or manmade, don't throw it.  
  
-The High Council

* * *

**Falcon Ship Log  
  
Day 4, Month 8, Year 3043  
  
The Rogue Squadron has declared war on the High Council. They're trying to find something that's not manmade or natural. Wes thinks he mighta found some rocks that are a by-product of Y'pep pee in one of the Falcon's smuggling compartments. Apparently that makes them unnatural and not manmade....  
  
Damn, no one seems really bothered by the fact that we're eatin ice now, 'cept Leia, but she won't admit it. She won't even admit how sick she is; she can't even stay conscious for more than a few minutes now. And she threw a piece of ice at Luke!  
  
A piece of ice.  
  
At Luke.  
  
Luke, who never does anything to hurt Leia, who always takes her side fights. Wow. I better make damn sure to wear some sort of armour when_I_visit.  
  
Luke won't even tell me why. They've apparently worked it out now, but jeez. The woman is going off her rocker. And not the I-think-I'm-going-a-little-stir-crazy kind of off her rocker, either. The I-am-a-raging-cycopath-who-will-now-wear-an-entire-black-suit-complete-with-helmet-and-call-myself-Dath-Vader kind of off her rocker.  
  
At least she isn't throwing anything at me. Cause if the idea entered her head it wouldn't be an ice chip she would throw. It would be more like blaster. A loaded blaster.  
  
I saw her earlier, to bring her some soup. Not exactly a move that brings the ladies to their knees, but hey; making sudden moves is enough to have her in a faint, so it wasn't entirely in vain. I'm trying to be what Chewie calls "charming". I dunno if it's working, though. Leia seemed to like it when I was talking to her today. But, then again, she also seemed to enjoy speaking with her patient chart, so I dunno where I place.  
  
(Hey, what do you expect if you shoot a woman, take her away from all medical facilities, and feed her ice for ten days?)  
  
Supposedly all this liquid is good for her, but I'm not sure. What if it, I dunno, dilutes her blood, or something?  
  
And then there's Luke. Hell, all he can do is run around, throwing snow at people and looking at me strange, which is starting to get on my nerves. He doesn't even seem that worried, and he's practically in love with Leia. Luke's supposed to be the one writing in his log that the brass is a bunch of idiots about to lose their best leader because of paranoia, not me. He's the big hero, the sensitive guy and all that crap. I'm just the hired help.  
  
And kest, they ain't paying me enough.**

****

**

* * *

Message sent at 2147 hours, Day 4, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
ATTENTION STARVED GENTLEBEINGS:  
  
Since we have no food, we may as well have entertainment. If you can't have dinner with your show, you better make sure it's a damn good show, that's our motto.  
  
And so with this in mind, we, the Rogue Squadron, have decided to start a little betting pool to go alongside Wes Janson's idea of the Solo and The Princess. Since Leia's currently not in any position to kill_or_sleep with Solo, hopefully this will keep you entertained until her recovery:  
  
**What Will We Be Eating Next?  
**  
You may come up with anything. Some examples are: Our toenails, frozen urine, engine fuel, etc. You can bet any sum, but be warned, should you not be able to pay your debt it will be taken out of your portion of ice chips (or whatever else we're eating).  
  
Happy guessing.  
  
-The One and Only Rogue Squadron

* * *

**Message sent at 2235 hours, Day 4, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
I'm so hungry. I can't remember what it's like to eat real food. Tell me what it's like, please.  
  
-Janson

* * *

****

**Message sent at 2236 hours, Day 4, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
Go to sleep, Wes.  
  
-Wedge

* * *

**Base Hospital: Patient Log  
**  
**Patient:**Janson, Wes  
  
**Injuries:**Plastisy poisoning  
  
**Cause of Injuries:**Consumption of object made of plastisy, seemingly while sleepwalking

* * *

**Message sent at 2419 hours, Day 4, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
_(Dictated, not written from Sick-bay.)_  
  
Mon Mothma,  
  
My deepest apologies for eating your fake plant. I honestly don't know how I managed to sleepwalk over to your office.  
  
Sincerely,  
  
-Wes Janson  
  
P.S. You didn't really mean that part about tying me to my bed, did you?

* * *

**Message sent at 0600 hours, Day 5, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
ATTENTION REBELS:  
  
Welcome to the Sixth Day of Lockdown. Four more to go. We are pleased to announce that there has been no Imperial activity anywhere close to this system in the last twenty-four time parts.  
  
-The High Council

* * *

**Message sent at 0602 hours, Day 5, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
Then, damn it, why can't we be sent food?  
  
-Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 0603 hours, Day 5, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
Hobbie, you just had to program that message with a wake-up alarm, didn't you? I'm still recovering, you know.  
  
-Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0603 hours, Day 5, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
Hobs, just cause your body don't need sleep, doesn't make it the same for the rest of us.  
  
-Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 0604 hours, Day 5, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
Don't? Cause?  
  
-Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0605 hours, Day 5, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
My grammar doesn't work this early. And I don't have to justify it - the fancy speaking bet is officially over. Leia said that I won. Besides, eating a plant is definitely a major faux pas in higher circles.  
  
-Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 0606 hours, Day 5, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
Hello? Can we focus here?  
  
-Hobs

* * *

****

**Message sent at 0607 hours, Day 5, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
Yeah, yeah. You were saying something along the lines of this: "The Council hates us... all a big conspiracy... imperial probes... poison in the ice chips, blah, blah, blah... So I felt the need to program this message with a REALLY LOUD ALARM!"  
  
Well, how d'you like this, Hobs?  
  
-Janson

* * *

****

**Message sent at 0608 hours, Day 5, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
Um, Wes, I'm all for revenge and everything... but next time could you maybe program the message to only play for Hobbie. My ear drums are throbbing.  
  
-Wedge

* * *

****

**Message sent at 0608 hours, Day 5, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
Sorry. Rage blinds, I guess.  
  
-Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0611 hours, Day 5, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
Hobbie? Man, why aren't you answering?  
  
-Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0612 hours, Day 5, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
You killed him.  
  
-Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 0613 hours, Day 5, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
Shut up. No one dies from loud noises.  
  
-Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0613 hours, Day 5, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
Oh yeah, well why isn't he answering?  
  
-Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 0613 hours, Day 5, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
Maybe he's just playing a trick on us.  
  
-Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0613 hours, Day 5, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
You know, I had a cousin once that died from something like this...  
  
-Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 0614 hours, Day 5, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
I'm not listening.  
  
-Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0615 hours, Day 5, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
Live, Hobbie! Live, I say!  
  
-Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0615 hours, Day 5, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
It's hopeless, you know.  
  
-Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 0616 hours, Day 5, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
Should I plead guilty, d'you think?  
  
-Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0620 hours, Day 5, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
Hey guys!  
  
Sorry about that; the guy next door to my quarters heard that little present Wesy sent along with his message. He had a few questions. And a blaster. He had questions and a really big blaster.  
  
-Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 0620 hours, Day 5, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
Hobs! You're alive!  
  
-Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0621 hours, Day 5, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
Guy next door, my foot.  
  
-Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 0622 hours, Day 5, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
That guy was very much here. I have the holes in my wall to prove it.  
  
-Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 0624 hours, Day 5, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
No really; he was here.  
  
-Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 0625 hours, Day 5, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
Guys?

* * *

**Message sent at 0625 hours, Day 5, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
Fine. I'm going to bed.

* * *

**Message sent at 0625 hours, Day 5, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
Guys?

* * *

**Transcript:**of the First Official Typist Janson Fan Club Meeting

We, the five anonymous members of this fan club, have decided to meet every standard week to pay homage to our favourite typist, Wes Janson. We shall gather with bags over our heads in the early morning so as to remain anonymous.  
  
We, as members of the TJFC, all are in awe of the way the Great Janson types up his meetings. With such dedication, such clarity.  
  
Our first motion is to get Wes back in the typist's seat. We are as of yet not sure how we shall accomplish this.

* * *

**Meeting Transcript:**On the Subject of Food  
  
Typed, again, by a Wes Janson. The other typist appears to be missing in action (however much action typing up a meeting can be). I swear I had nothing to do with it. Really. I have no desire to type up food problems.  
  
The purpose of this meeting is to find a way to get food. The planet that we, the Rebellion, are currently stationed on is a barren ice field called Hoth, so no wildlife, and we are in lockdown mode due to imperial activity, which rules out shipments in. So basically, we're screwed.  
  
**Mon Mothma (Looking over typist's shoulder):**You can't write that.... Oh, never mind. But Janson, if I ever find out that you are responsible for Mater Tust's disappearance, so help me... Are you writing this down?  
  
**Janson:**Yep.  
  
**Mon Mothma:**I won't be surprised if something off one of these transcripts ruins my political career.  
  
**Janson:**With all due respect ma'am, you're a wanted outlaw. You can't have a political career.  
  
**Mon Mothma:**(Well, she didn't actually say anything, but you could hear the annoyance.)  
  
**Mon Mothma:**I imagine that to be a very interesting aural occurrence.  
  
The typist chooses wisely not to reply.  
  
The whole meeting crew has gathered for this one. General Carlist Rieekan, General Jan Dodonna, myself, Supreme Commander Mon Mothma... however Senator/Princess Leia Organa absence hangs all over us all. Especially considering that she and her one true love, Captain Solo, have yet to get togeth-  
  
**Mon Mothma (Annoyed):**We don't care, Janson.  
  
**Janson:**I care.  
  
**Mon Mothma (Menacingly):**I'm paying you to type, Janson, not to care.  
  
**Janson:**You're not paying me, ma'am.  
  
**Mon Mothma (Very Quietly):**So help me...  
  
**Janson (Muttering):**Sheesh, a guy tries to add a little extra to these things and this is the thanks he gets.  
  
If you ask this typist, the Supreme Commander is just jealous because she doesn't have a mate.  
  
**Mon Mothma (Forebodingly):**Janson!  
  
She peers over typists shoulder.  
  
**Mon Mothma:**I was not speaking "forebodingly".  
  
**Janson:**I call it like I see it.  
  
**Mon Mothma:**It's not even a word.  
  
**Rieekan (Looking Annoyed):**Ahem.  
  
Both Mon Mothma and this typist look up. Seeing that their previous exchange had an audience, Mon Mothma looks rather embarrassed. She makes to begin the meeting-  
  
**Mon Mothma (Standing):**Gentlemen, we are out of food. Our troops are eating ice bits, drinking ice bits, and we have four more days to go in the lockdown procedure. We need suggestions.  
  
**Rieekan:**You know I think we should have called in the supply ships long ago. To keep this up any longer would be suicide. Armies fight on their stomachs. If the Empire finds us now we are-  
  
**Mon Mothma:**-finished. Which is why I prefer them not finding us.  
  
**Dodonna:**Am I right in assuming that we are all in too weak a condition to even think of sending out scouts to see if Hoth has any natives.  
  
**Mon Mothma:**Yes.  
  
**Rieekan:**I still think-  
  
**Dodonna (Exasperated):**Yes, we all know what you think. We know you're worried about the Princess – we all are – we just aren't as willing to sacrifice the Rebellion for her.  
  
**Rieekan (Loudly):**We are scarifying the Rebellion staying here. I don't know about you, but I don't consider death by starvation a great battle tactic.  
  
**Mon Mothma (Shouting):**We cannot bring in any-  
  
**Rieekan (Shouting Louder):**We cannot live like this-  
  
**Dodonna (Loudest):**Can we please try and-  
  
**Janson (Loudestest – I ran out of words, okay):**Excuse me, but you need to find food, right?  
  
**Mon Mothma (Sarcastically):**Really Janson, I thought you were faster on the uptake than that.  
  
**Janson (Persevering through the massive abuse he is being subjected to):**I know a way.  
  
**Dodonna:**Sure you do-  
  
**Rieekan:**Let him speak. (Always the voice of reason, that Rieekan)  
  
**Janson:**Thank you, Carlist.  
  
**Rieekan:**General. (Maybe not always)  
  
**Janson:**-General. Some of the pilots must have food stocked up somewhere. I know that Solo must, for one. You can simply raid ships for the food.  
  
**Mon Mothma:**You must understand, Janson, that the High Council must act with some semblance of propriety.  
  
**Janson:**Then let the Rogues do it. We'll be glad to help.  
  
**Dodonna (Starting to look hopeful):**And you won't let on this command came from us?  
  
**Janson:**Swear to it.  
  
**Rieekan:**And you'll bring all the food to the mess?  
  
**Janson:**Well, maybe not all. (Seeing the looks he's getting) Hey, we're doing you a massive favor here.  
  
**Mon Mothma (Still skeptical – the woman has no faith):**And you're sure the others will agree to this?  
  
**Janson:**Hey, if it means food...  
  
**Mon Mothma (Clapping her hands together):**Well, that's settled then. And gentlemen, there's no need to discus what happened in here. Start tomorrow, Janson.  
  
**Janson (Gesturing to what he's typing):**You want me to burn this, or something.  
  
**Mon Mothma:**No. It's programmed to self destruct if the wrong person reads it.  
  
**Jason:**Really?  
  
**Mon Mothma:**No.

* * *

**Transcript:**The Second Official Meeting of TJFC

Mission accomplished.  
  
The members of TJFC shall now take turns visiting the supply closet by the secondary mess, to feed our captive food and to stun him, when necessary.

* * *

****

**Message sent at 1701 hours, Day 5, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
The hunger must be going to people's heads. Wesy has a damn cult following.  
  
-Hobs

* * *

****

**Message sent at 1702 hours, Day 5, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
Aw, they're just very enthusiastic admirers.  
  
-Janson

* * *

_Journal of Princess Leia Organa  
  
5th Day, 8th Month, 3043rd Year_

_  
  
Sixth day of Lockdown. Four more. Just four. _

* * *

  
  
**Falcon Ship Log  
  
Day 5, Month 8, Year 3043****  
  
It's the middle of the night, and I really can't sleep. Plus, last night I kept hearing these strange ringing sounds...  
  
Leia's getting really bad. Pale, and she faints way too often. Sometimes she doesn't answer when you ask her a question. The doctor says that she probably should have had a blood trans- whatever yesterday.  
  
That's it. I'm doing something about this**. 

* * *

****

**Message sent at 0600 hours, Day 6, Month 8, Year 3043  
  
**ATTENTION REBELS:  
  
Welcome to the Seventh Day of Lockdown. There are in fact now only two left. After much deliberation we, the High Council, have decided that it is safe to let in the supply ships a day early.  
  
-The High Council

* * *

****

**Message sent at 0921 hours, Day 6, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
Oh they're smooth alright, our Council. They tell us that they're going to let the supply ships in a day early to take notice away from the fact that our breakfast is now almost nothing. I'm telling you, we're going to die in here.  
  
-Hobs

* * *

****

**Message sent at 0923 hours, Day 6, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
What if he's right?  
  
-Luke

* * *

****

**Message sent at 0923 hours, Day 6, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
Great Hobbie. You've corrupted the last innocent member of this operation.  
  
-Wedge

* * *

****

**Message sent at 0923 hours, Day 6, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
Hobs, how is it that you do what I've been trying to accomplish for years in a sentence?  
  
-Janson

* * *

****

**Message sent at 0924 hours, Day 6, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
Practice, my friend. Practice.  
  
-Hobs

* * *

****

**Message sent at 0926 hours, Day 6, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
Speaking of corruption has anyone talked to Han lately. He's been acting strange.  
  
-Wedge

* * *

****

**Message sent at 0928 hours, Day 6, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
Leia's getting worse.  
  
-Luke

* * *

****

**Message sent at 0929 hours, Day 6, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
You know it'd be ironic, after all she's done, for her to die like this. Not in battle, but simply because of some screw-up of the brass.  
  
-Hobs

* * *

****

**Message sent at 0930 hours, Day 6, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
She can't die! Han wouldn't let her. I won't let her.  
  
-Luke

* * *

****

**Message sent at 0930 hours, Day 6, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
She won't die, Luke. (Jeez, Hobs. Go find a crypt somewhere to live in.)  
  
But – and listen to me here – but if she does, or if Han decides to leave suddenly, or they fight really badly... tell Han that she loves him. Okay? They deserve that much.  
  
-Janson

* * *

****

**Message sent at 0931 hours, Day 6, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
Do you hear that sound? It's the infamous Wes Janson going soft.  
  
-Hobs

* * *

****

**Message sent at 0931 hours, Day 6, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
Nah. I just got a lot of money riding on this couple.  
  
-Janson

* * *

****

**Message sent at 0932 hours, Day 6, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
Twenty credits says that he's bawling at his terminal.  
  
-Hobs

* * *

**  
Message sent at 0932 hours, Day 6, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
Twenty more says you're bawling harder.  
  
-Wedge 

* * *

**Message sent at 0934 hours, Day 6, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
I'll tell him, Wes.  
  
-Luke 

P.S. Shouldn't we be raiding some ships?

* * *

****

**Message sent at 0935 hours, Day 6, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
Thank you Luke. Just when I think there's nothing else to live for, you remind me of our duties. Ah, the fine arts of the Rogue Squadron: match making, piloting skills, and stealing.  
  
-Janson

* * *

****

**Watch Log:****Hanger Bay  
  
1231 hours, Day 6, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
The Rogue Squadron has been hanging around here for a long time now. Every now and then they enter a ship, but they always come out empty handed. I can't quite figure it out. Repairs perhaps? I'm checking it out.

* * *

****

**Message sent at 1256 hours, Day 6, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
Good thing you guys had that fancy speaking bet. The guard didn't have a clue what you were saying.  
  
-Luke

* * *

****

**Message sent at 1257 hours, Day 6, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
You know, it helped that he was the stupidest one of the bunch. Cause, really, I had no idea what I was saying either. All I knew was that I was saying "theoretically" a lot.  
  
-Wedge

* * *

****

**Message sent at 1258 hours, Day 6, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
What didn't help was Lukie's little attempt at, what was it, a Jedi mind trick?  
  
-Hobs

* * *

****

**Message sent at 1258 hours, Day 6, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
You know where the whole Jedi mind trick myth came from? It came from loud-mouthed bosses. You know, you give them an idea and then they repeat it and suddenly it's their own idea. I hate them.  
  
-Janson

* * *

****

**Message sent at 1259 hours, Day 6, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
Yes Wesy, we all know how the big bad brass took you're idea and made it into their own. But did you really expect them to say "Here you go troops. This whole food idea was Wes Janson's. We're too stupid to think for ourselves; we need a lowly pilot to do it for us."  
  
-Hobs

* * *

****

**Message sent at 1259 hours, Day 6, Month 8, Year 3043**  
  
Yes, exactly.  
  
-Janson

* * *

_Journal of Princess Leia Organa  
  
6th Day, 8th Month, 3043rd Year_

_  
  
Twomoredaystwomoredaystwomordaystwomoredays _

* * *

  
  
**Falcon Ship Log  
Screw the Krethen Date****  
**

**  
I can't even understand Leia anymore. Just two days ago she was fine, and now-  
  
I have a plan, though. (Damn. Why does that phrase worry me so much?)**

* * *

Message sent at 2347 hours, Day 6, Month 8, Year 3043  
  
Mothma,  
  
Captain Solo's in my room now demanding that he be allowed to fly Leia out to one of those supply ships. He has a blaster and he doesn't look like he's about to take no for an answer.  
  
Leia's not going to live otherwise, you know that.  
  
Please.  
  
-Rieekan 

* * *

****

**Message sent at 2350 hours, Day 6, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
Let them go.  
  
But Carlist... why would pirate, one who is known for his excellent self-preservation, take a risk like this?  
  
-Mothma

* * *

****

**Message sent at 2352 hours, Day 6, Month 8, Year 3043  
**  
I thought that it was obvious. He loves her.  
  
-Rieekan

* * *

**Falcon Ship Log  
  
Sometime in the night, in hyperspace on way to Viseron  
  
Kreth, that kid is insane. I had just settled Leia into my bunk and was gonna take off, when he comes marching up the ramp, with Wes, Wedge, and Hobbie in tow. They plant themselves in the middle of the cockpit, and tell me, cool as anything, that they're coming along for the ride.  
  
Even after being told what happens if we're caught they wouldn't budge a damn centim. Luke just looks up at me and says "We're coming with you." Stang. Where was I when this kid suddenly grew up?  
  
So we left for Viseron, some little backwater planet, where one of the supply ship is docked. They know we're coming, so all I gotta worry about is imps. (_All_I gotta worry about...)  
  
I'm sitting beside Leia now. It's my shift to watch her; we've decided she can't be left alone.  
  
We'll be at Viseron soon, and I'm not writing another thing until I can say that Leia's better.  
  
Well, 'cept this: Five men and a Wookiee deciding to die for her - for such a small thing, she sure inspires a hell of a lota loyalty. ****

* * *

**

_Journal of Princess Leia Organa  
  
9th Day, 8th Month, 3043rd Year_

_  
  
We're back on Hoth, which is a funny thing to say because I can't remember ever leaving. I'm better – obviously – thanks to Han, a fact that I only just found out about.  
  
I woke in the med-center on Hoth yesterday, feeling a lot better. Dizzy, but better. I tried to asked what had happened to me when the medical droids were examining me (like talking to a wall), when the receptionist was checking me out (a wall would have been more knowledgeable), and when Threepio was escorting me back to my quarters (like talking through a wall – he was talking, just not listening), but no one would tell me.  
  
Inside my quarters, which I was seeing for the first time (white, of course), things became marginally clearer. There was an actual meal on my bed, waiting for me, so that meant Lockdown was over. I tried to call Han on his com-link, but Chewie answered instead. After much frustration on both our parts and much abuse directed at Threepio (who, it turns out, does not translate well under pressure), I finally established that Han was in a large bacta-tank in sick-bay. I've never run so fast.  
  
Now I know why Han hates medics so much; the whole establishment couldn't have made less sense if they had tried. But underneath all the layers of technical podoo were the cold hard facts: Han was hurt. Badly.  
  
My therapist chose that moment (just as I was preparing to tear the head off one of the droids) to enter and drag me off to a session in her office. It's interesting; when your good friend, who you just might be in love with, is in the hospital and you have no idea how he got there abstract art and soothing scenes of nature really don't calm you down. I should warn the "therapists abroad" society.  
  
Apparently Aspith had finally gotten around to reading this diary and had decided that she should set my love-life straight. (Honestly. What happened to Alderaan, I ask.)  
  
Her: This Solo man... you love him, yes?  
  
Me: Yes.  
  
(I was speaking through clenched teeth the whole session.)  
  
Ironically enough, at the time I was staring at a semi-abstract painting of two lovers entwined in an embrace. It seemed to be mocking me.  
  
Her: This is progress Leia. (She bends over her little notebook, and begins to write.) Patient has begun to form relationships.  
  
I had switched to gazing at an image which was simply a black dot surrounded by a sea of pink. I was reminded of Han, encased in a tank of bacta.  
  
Me: One of which is dangerously close to being terminated.  
  
Her: What's that?  
  
Me: Han's hurt.  
  
She finally seems to figure it out, and a look of horror crosses her face.  
  
Her: Oh. The man back in the med-center...  
  
Me: That's him.  
  
Her: You know, he has a nice body.  
  
Me: I'm docking your pay.  
  
After which I left and went back to the med-center. Chewie was there with Luke, who managed to explain that Han had been injured (I could just hear Han's voice: "Always the master of the obvious, eh Junior?"), and that the supply ships had indeed docked. He didn't tell me how Han was injured, and how it was that I was not in the bacta tank next to him. At the time the knowledge didn't seem too important.  
  
Around midnight that night, the head medic cam to inform us Han was out of the danger zone. He would live.  
  
I spent the night dreaming, dreaming of trying to rescue a drowning Han from his tank of bacta. Alderaan was exploding in the background. Suddenly the bacta became blood, the blood of a thousand Alderaanians. And then it was Han's blood.  
  
I tried to work today, which, it turns out, was a good thing. Carlist was the one to finally tell me what exactly had happened.  
  
Han, apparently, was not up for sitting and watching me die, so he took a blaster to Rieekan's head and demanded to be allowed to take me to the nearest transport. (Somehow, this only fortified Rieekan's general admiration for him.) A careless and stupid action, one that could have placed him in jail, but that's Han. Privately, I think it's rather romantic.  
  
Carlist, to save his head, somehow convinced Mothma to give her consent.  
  
Luke, Wes, Wedge, and Hobbie got wind of the thing and decided to play hero and three sidekicks. Since time was of the essence, Han was forced to let them come. We made it to the transport without hassle, where it was discovered that Luke and I have the same blood type. But the trip back was not so easy. Typically.  
  
We were attacked by an imperial convoy, and in the escape Han was hit with one of the pieces of the collapsing Falcon. Hence the bacta.  
  
One thing didn't sit right with me, though. Why would Mothma agree to let them go? What if we were captured? I asked Rieekan.  
  
You must understand that up until that moment I was finding the thing a bit humourous. After all, I was alive, Han was going to be fine, and the whole story just sounded so typically like my boys; a half-assed, half-planned attempt at a rescue. Besides, Carlist was trying not to laugh as he retold the tale, his eyes crinkling at the corners.  
  
He stopped when I asked. Abruptly.  
  
He came over to my chair and put a hand on my shoulder, to calm me. Somehow it had the reverse effect.  
  
"He promised to kill himself and crew if you were caught."  
  
Unknowingly, in that moment, he saved Aspith's job._

**

* * *

**   
  
**Base Hospital: Patient Log  
  
Patient(s): **

Tunks, Mar  
  
Kawsen, Karp  
  
Inent, Swith  
  
**Injuries: **Temporary State of Insanity  
  
**Cause of Injuries:** Seemingly brought on after hearing a loud noise, like an alarm, causing them to do strange things; form cults, lock people in closets


	14. Ice Princess

**Author's note [Please read me]:**

****

**I'm baaaaaack! Woohooo! **

**Now, I have a perfectly good excuse for the lapse in updating. You see, I went on** **vaction, under the impression that our cottege had wireless internet... you really don't care, do you? Point is, I'm back!**

**This chapter's kind of short, mainly because it and the next chapter (which will be posted shortly) were originally one chapter. Then it got way too long, so I had to divide them up... Also, if this chapter makes no sense to you at first; THAT IS OKAY, that is the point, and it will all be explained in the next chapter.**

**What you should know is that you should probably pay attention to the dates on the entries and messages. It's only really important for this chapter and the next one.**

**Lastly, thank you to all the reviewers! I love you all!**

****

****

**Tinuviel Undomiel: **Thank you for your suggestion! I used it in the next chapter!

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**dm1: **This story just may be taken that far...

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**MissE: **You want Luke's point of view in here? Well, we'll see...

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Thank you!

**darththunderbird: **Hello, another TFN member! And don't worry, I will get them together at some point.

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**Kazzy: **Your reviews are always so funny, my dear. I'm glad you're enjoying it.

**stormygurlz: **Gotta love those boys.

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**Sailor Leia: **Hello! Thank you for the review! And Ord Mantell is coming right up in the next chapter.

**Ieyre: **Oh yes, we have all mannerisms of food-fights in this story.

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**Sweetdeath04: **Was it you and Thorney who said that the Therapist was Wes in a dress? If so, the next chapter is dedicated to you two.

Thank you for the kind review!

**dm1: **Yes, the patomoes have returned. Be afraid...

Thanks for the review! And pointing out that H20 thing, except, I'm not sure how to fix it either..

**A Star Wars Fanatic: **_THIS STORY RULES IS AND IS CURRENTLY ONE OF MY MAIN RESONS FOR LIVING. That and I don't really want to die..._

Limelight falls to the ground in a fit of laughter

I'm sorry, but that just cracked me up! Thank you!

**liz: **Thank you!

**Sithspawn-13: **Ha. Leia continues to go off her rocker...

**iamof18:** Thank you!

**rougette: **Funny you should mention that Wesy and co. act like teenage girls... you should see who I based them on.

**mirelle:** Ha! Though I'm not sure Leia exactly listened...

**Dendera:** Thank you!

****

****

**

* * *

**

**29th, Month 1, 3044**

Dear Diary,

It's me, Thaye. Back from the dead.

First time writing in this since Pip left me for that blond bimbo. It's not my fault she had bigger breasts – they were probably fake anyways. I knew I should never have helped her out all those times by checking that she filed supplies in the right order. I bet if Pip knew Powder-puff was too stupid to handle simple organization skills he would have stayed with me. Then again, he always preferred to be the smarter one in the relationship, hated it when I was right... Guess that means Airhead's going to keep him really happy.

Whatever. I didn't start this stupid little kid's hobby up again to write about that glitter tube trying to pass off as human. Just because I saw something really romantic, in the old fashioned knights-in-armour way, the way I will never know, and I thought 'Hey, I should write this down.' Actually, it doesn't seem like such a good idea now, but – what the hell – I've already started. Onward.

Us lowly pilots, Pip and Alex and the rest of us not in the famous Rogue Squadron, we track the lives of the Dream Three like a cult following. Hey, as Alex so elegantly puts it, you gots to keep busy somehow.

Aside from hearing mutilated basic, the locker rooms are the best place to catch up on the DT's - as they're so fondly known as - latest mission. And if you're new to this lost cause (known to its nearest and dearest as the Rebellion) it is impossible to avoid seeing at least twenty reenactments of the battle at Yavin – complete with sound effects – on your first day. Trust me; I tried. Every year in these impromptu shows it seems that the Death Star gets bigger, that tunnel gets smaller - and the engine on Luke Skywalker's X-wing is always dying.

But really it's Han Solo and Leia Organa, the beautiful, stubborn princess (I'm jealous – not many people can pull off that double-bun look) and the scoundrel of a space pirate, that get the most attention. Stuff of legends that princess and her Captain, someone once said. More like their fights are. They're fondly known as HH's, or Hearing Hazards. It's common to hear something along the lines of 'It's an HH-scale of five-point-three.' A ten is reserved for if they actually blow someone's hearing.

You know she talked to me once, Leia did. She bumped against my arm in the mess and then said "excuse me". I've never met Solo, and unfortunately he doesn't talk in my dreams as he shags me senseless. Shame that; I've heard communication is good for sex – it says so in one of the holo-novels I have. I couldn't find any for advice on dream sex, which is all I'm going to have now that Pip's and Hairspray are getting it on.

But back to Solo and Organa. Gods know they have much more interesting lives than me. Everybody's heard by now about how he saved her life after she got shot by Macer Kit - never did like that M.K - or how she broke a law to send out a rescue team for him. I remember when Pip and I first made it to the Rebellion, in the rush of hopefuls after the Yavin victory, and we first heard about them. (I should have known then that Pip was a bad idea. What sixteen-year-old runs off with his girlfriend and joins a group of beings on the Emperor's "to kill" list?) We hadn't heard about Solo and the Princess before then. Hell, with the backwater planet we were on I didn't even know Skywalker's first name.

I didn't notice it then, but during the opening tour of the Rebellion all the other would-be soldier hopefuls around me and Pip were just kids. Runaways, bumkins from all the holo-view-less corners of the universe who had only heard about this victory from word of mouth. Not one of us could have been the required age of eighteen. It really should have been a warning to us that the Alliance was so desperate they were willing to overlook our age, but hey, at that point all we were dreaming of was getting away from our out-of-date parents (literally, one girl told me hers didn't even know what year it was) and being like what's-his-name Skywalker.

That first day Pip was being Pip, trying to tease me or something, and when the guide pointed out the Princess working nearby he let out a whistle. The guide responded by saying 'You can't have that one; she's Solo's girl.' Damn, I wish I were someone's girl. It does seem a little sexist, though. Someone's girl, like we're property. But hey, if Solo's your boyfriend who cares about equality of the sexes?

Around a week ago I was sent to the supply room for the first time. Everyone loves to get sent because there's an outside chance someone famous might be there. (Yes, we are pathetic.) Anyways, when I showed up guess who was standing about halfway down isle three – Han I-am-gorgeous Solo. I was in a panic. My lipstick was smudged, my hair was a mess, and I had had the beginnings of a zit at lunch. I was getting ready to either run or offer up my slightly tarnished virginity, when the Captain shouted something across the shelves. I turned to see Leia Organa rounding the corner into Solo's isle. Damn, I remember thinking, her virginity is probably worth more.

Turns out she didn't offer anything to him, except for a slap across the face. It looked like I caught them in the middle of one of their infamous fights (HH-scale: unknown). They were too far away for me to figure out what they were saying – or it could have been that my ears weren't working from the shock of seeing two-thirds of the DT so close up. Organa stormed off, practically running me over, and Solo left before my mouthstarted to work. I forgot to pick up the power cables and have never been sent back to supply since. I think it was worth it.

You know, I always thought that Skywalker would be the one to get Leia. I mean, Solo's hot but Skywalker's the big Alliance poster-boy. And he has those nice blue eyes...

Ha. Tonight blew that theory to hell. I might have to invest in a bet in Janson's pool. Maybe Pip might like me better rich. I could always get my breasts enhanced. And my hair dyed blond. But hey, why stop there? I could just steal Glitzy Glam's whole identity. She probably wouldn't notice the difference if I bundled her up and carted her off to an insane asylum.

So back to the reason I started up this diary again. Sure took me awhile. My supervising officer always says that if I'm ever captured by the Imps I'll be shot before I could reveal anything because my answers would go so far off-track during an interrogation.

I was wandering around tonight, totally not planning the walking lipstick's death, when I saw someone up ahead. It was really dark, so I didn't know who it was but I could tell it was a man. I thought it might be Pip, out for his nightly rendezvous with – I'm all out of witty names here – blondie. So I decided to follow him.

He took me to Barracks-1, where the Council sleeps, and in a panicked moment I thought I might be stalking Dodonna. That would have been hard to explain. I could have played the 'am desperately attracted to beards' card, but then I actually might have had to sleep with him... The panic ended when I realized there was no way the General could have that nice a butt.

The-man-who-thank-the-Gods-was-not-Dodonna stopped outside someone's room, and instead of going to the door he knocked on a window. A bit off topic, but I never understood why the hell we needed windows. What are we going to look at? My theory is that the architects were perverts, and just wanted to be able to see in. Not that I'm complaining – the guy across from my bunkroom has a very nice body.

Back to my story; so the nameless man knocks on the window. Riveting, I know, but it gets better, because then a light goes on inside and the man's face comes into view. And it's (cue miracle music) Han I-look-awesome-in-the-half-light Solo.

Unfortunately, I no longer had the virginity play. Pip took that and ran straight to the amazing anorexic chick. (Score! A witty name and alliteration!)

I was safely hidden in shadows when the light went on, but all the same I almost had a heart attack. When the window cycled open I swear it must have stopped – my heart, not the window – because I was looking at a sleepy eyed Leia Organa, with her hair mussed up, which is an amazing event all by itself. I shuffled a bit closer to hear what they were saying. Hey, I figured, can't leave now. After all, the two had been rumored to be fighting a lot lately. Well actually, I started the rumors after the slapping incident, but still.

The Princess leaned out the window and glared at Solo. Poor guy, greater men have perished under that gaze.

'Yes Captain?' was all she said, somehow managing to look regal and tired at the same time. Solo just looked sexy.

'I came by 'cause I got some news you might like to hear.' He gave her that rogue grin and all he got was a raised eyebrow. Leia Organa is made of stronger stuff than I, who would have fainted.

The Captain kind of faltered at that point; obviously he had been expecting a fainting. 'You see... well, really... I've been wondering...' Gods, I remember thinking, is he proposing? (I was really tired, alright.) If Leia had shared my thought she didn't show it. She lived up to her nickname: Ice Princess.

Solo shuffled his feet, sexily, of course. 'Look Leia... I'm staying on for good, and you can't sign me up now, but wait until after my Ord Mantell mission and then you can put my name down anywhere you want and even give me one of those damned uniforms.' The whole thing in one breath. Obviously the man works out.

Organa looked floored for a few seconds, and then she closed the window. What, I thought. What does he mean "staying on for good"? And why did she slam the window? But really and truly I could have cared less staring at Solo's butt.

Solo stayed there for a moment, the turned and walked slowly away. I was about to get up when the door cycled open and out ran the Princess, bare-legged, bare-armed, and probably freezing. Solo turned around just in time to have her practically throw herself into his arms. He spun her around like a little kid. I couldn't hear what they were saying so I moved closer.

'...freeze to death – wait, are you crying?' They were standing close together, and she was still in his arms. There were, I noticed, slight tear tracks on her face.

'Well Captain, running through the snow barefoot is rather painful,' she said primly. I looked down and sure enough her feet were bare.

'We can't have Her Highness in pain, now can we?' Solo was smiling down at her a bit dangerously. You know, the way the men in holo-vids smile right before they ravish the unsuspecting but totally receptive heroines within a centim of their lives... Ah, you had to be there. He lifted her out of the snow and stood her on his boots, the way children learn to dance. 'And don't call me Captain,' as he spoke he lifted one foot then the other causing Organa to lose her balance and grab him around the waist.

'Stop that.'

'Why?' And he danced her around in the snow.

They finally stopped and she was laughing. It was too dark to see them by now. Here's the dialogue play-by-play.

'Are you really staying flyboy?'

'Yup. And you're the first to know, Sweetheart.'

'I'm honored.'

'Thought you might be.'

Silence. Then:

'You can let go of me now. I think I can manage to stand without your help.'

'I dunno Beautiful, my boots were just polished and they might be slippery.'

'Let go of me this instant Laser-brain.'

Thud.

'Told you.'

'Shut up and help me.'

There was rustling, and then came:

'Put me down Han.'

There was a beat.

'Han?'

'You know, you oughta eat more. You hardly weigh a thing.'

'Han...'

'I'll just carry you to your room. I'm strong.'

'You're incorrigible.'

'That too.'

They came back into the light coming from her window. She opened the door – there was some difficulty while they tried to put her in a position to palm it – and he set her down. There was an awkward pause, which shocked me. Perfect people do not experience awkward pauses, it just doesn't happen. Then a radical thought entered my mind, one that would have got me kicked out of the locker room group for sure – maybe the Dream Three were actually real people. I shook it off and filed it in the same category as the 'is Solo proposing?' thought.

'Can I really sign you up?' Organa's voice was so soft I almost missed it.

'After Ord Mantell.'

'Ord Mantell! Wait, I want to come with you.' Her voice was earnest.

'But we leave in the morning, Leia.'

'So? I pack fast, and besides, you're probably going to need someone with intelligence along at some point, Solo. Don't leave without me.' And she closed the door. He looked happily bemused (and sexy).

'Women,' he shook his head and walked away whistling.

So now I'm off to bet all my money. Maybe Pip will like me better with blue lenses. Maybe I'll actually steal Bleached Blonde's identity – just not her brain. Maybe I'll pay someone to write an advisory book on dream sex. Maybe then Solo'll finally talk to me, if not in real life than at least in my fantasies.

I'll write to you again when I am rich and famous, Diary.

Don't hold your breath.

-Thaye Less

* * *

**Message sent at 0600 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

ATTENTION REBELS:

We sure aren't ushering the New Year in the best way. Whoever owns the twenty boxes of Demure (which is a perfume, boys) would you please move them out of the middle of the hanger bay. Thank you.

-The High Council

* * *

**Message sent at 1118 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Gooooood morning! Happy Anniversary!

-Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 1122 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Wes, if you feel the need to clog up other people's terminals with useless bouts of stupidity please don't use me as a target.

-Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 1122 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Aw Wesy; you remembered.

-Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 1123 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Huh?

-Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 1124 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Shut up Hobs. What I really meant is that it's the four month anniversary of the start of the lockdown! Cheers! I even got you gifts!

-Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 1125 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

You mean the ice chips on my pillow last night? That was sick, man.

-Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 1125 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

He is sick – and disloyal, dishonest, disnice...

-Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 1126 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Disnice?

-Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 1127 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Accusations always come in threes. I needed another dis-word.

-Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 1129 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Wait. Why's Wedge mad at Wes?

-Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 1130 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

'Cause his girlfriend thought the melted ice was drool?

-Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 1130 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

No, because he has no consideration for other people's privacy. How would you like it if someone read your journal?

-Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 1131 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Umm, I wouldn't like it much, I guess... But I don't have a journal, Wedge.

-Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 1134 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

You were fine with it in the beginning, Antilles. And it worked, didn't it.

-Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 1135 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

We had no business reading that last entry, Janson.

-Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 1137 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Well, how the hell was I supposed to know she would write something like that down? And besides Luke, would you rather your love go unrequited?

-Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 1138 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Umm... no?

-Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 1138 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Unrequited? Nice.

-Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 1139 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Yeah, I know. I got it from Threepio.

-Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 1141 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

You know Threepio?

-Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 1141 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Did that medic chick really think it was drool, Hobbie?

-Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 1143 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

But Threepio's Leia's! How didja get him?

-Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 1144 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Yeah. And now I have to make my pillow wet every night. Turns out drool turns her on.

-Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 1144 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

How. Do. You. Know. Threepio.

-Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 1145 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Drool turns her on? Kinky dude. She have a sister?

-Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 1146 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Guys, if you stopped to think for a sec you'd realize Luke has no idea what you're talking about.

-Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 1148 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Well. Should we tell him then, Wesy boy?

-Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 1149 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

I dunno, drooly. He can't do too much harm now. They've already left.

-Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 1149 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

They? Left?

-Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 1150 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Drooly?

-Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 1150 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

What if he doesn't like it? I mean, Wedge doesn't like it.

-Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 1151 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

For very good reasons. That last entry of hers was private!

-Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 1152 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Her?

-Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 1153 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

That's it. I'm telling. The poor kid's gonna loose his mind wondering otherwise.

You see Lukie; we decided that we would try again with our lovebirds.

-Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 1154 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

One last run, if you will.

-Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 1155 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Suicide run.

-Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 1156 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Wait a second - entries? You didn't...

-Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 1158 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

He did.

-Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 1159 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Oh no.

-Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 1200 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Oh yes.

About a week ago we sent out a runner into our little Princess's room, and look what we found. Not even a password on the data-pad, or nothing.

_Journal of Princess Leia_

_24th Day, 1st Month, 3044th Year_

_Ice Princess!_

_Turns out that's the new name for me in the locker rooms. At least, it's Han's new name for me._

_We haven't been getting along, haven't been talking (shouting does not count as conversation) for awhile. Mainly because after the Lockdown I... well, I..._

_Panicked? Not likely. An Organa never panics._

_Lost it? I don't think so. Despite what my therapist says, I have excellent control over my mind._

_Got cold feet? Perhaps. (If, that is, there is such thing as getting cold feet before a relationship even starts. Pre-relationship, pre-marital cold feet, maybe? Good Gods, I can't even do that properly.)_

_Why? Easy – Han would die for me, is willing to die for me. Or was._

_When Carlist said that Han had agreed to kill himself and crew should they have been captured on their mission – a mission, only put through the Council by blackmail, a mission to save my life, I didn't have an answer for him. I still don't._

_Reasonably speaking, I should have been glad. Because this means he cares too, doesn't it? But what if I'm just another girl, another notch in the old belt, another mark on a cabin-room wall?_

_What if he leaves?_

_All this was spinning around in my head when I made the decision that I was not going to be played be some smuggler. I would not be used then left in the dust like a forgotten toy._

_So I stopped saying yes when he invited me over for drinks, stopped letting him pilot me everywhere, stopped being unnecessarily friendly. I wasn't exactly cold towards him, more like distant. I find I'm good at distant._

_I guess he didn't appreciate it._

_At first he went out of his way to get my attention. Purposely riled me, embarrassed me, teased me. He yelled, he swore - but, so help me Gods, I am a diplomat to the last._

_I never counted him giving up on me, never thought he might-_

_I guess I was vain._

_Soon I was realizing that it had become easier to deal with him, that I was running into him less. Then I realized he had switched gears, played my trick back on me. It seemed as if he was actively avoiding me, and that was two months ago. Now I know he more likely actively hates me._

_And then, and only then, I realized how much I missed him. For Sith's sake; I even miss his damn ship. Oh the irony – the fates have a very twisted sense of humour. Han would probably like them._

_After that little 'News Bulletin' I was bending over backward trying to get any kind of response from him (oh, how the tables turn), but he's better at avoiding me than I was at avoiding him, back in the old days. Except I never really avoided him, did I? Just pretended too._

_I gave up weeks ago, when he stopped even fighting with me, when he just nodded after I purposely provoked him. The way I look at it, this solves two problems: a] I no longer half to endure fighting with Han all the time, no longer half to sit through his teasing, no longer have to hear his nicknames for me, no longer have to exercise all that effort to remain stoic in the face of his charm, and b] I am no longer in love with him, because an Organa would never love a lost cause._

_(I find it interesting that I can say that while fighting for the Rebellion.)_

_Darn it. I've gone positively morbid. My therapist's advice: think happy thoughts that involve fluffy mewsk kittens and balls of yarn. Except my mewsks always end up strangled... which I think is counterproductive._

_Today, though, he broke the longstanding silence. Well, actually we were both in the supply, him one row over, and he asked if there were any battery packs in my row._

_Well._

_He breaks his two month vigil to ask me for (Bold)battery packs? Battery packs? Couldn't he have asked for something a bit more significant, at least? Like computer terminal screens._

_Like a kiss._

_So I told him that I wasn't his runner and that if he wanted his battery packs he'd have to walk over to my isle._

_"Sorry I went and troubled her Royal Highnessness, the Ice Princess," he shot back. I of course had heard the name before, just not from him. Somehow that made all the difference. I rounded the corner and slapped him. I felt his eyes on me the whole time as I walked away._

_For some unfathomable reason, the episode reminded me of a conversation I had a month ago with Luke. It was back when Han still felt me worthy enough to fight with, after a particularly... interesting argument. Not really that serious, but I was mad as anything. Luke sat on my bunk and watched me slam stacks of data-pads around. He was grinning at me in an infuriating way. I finally broke and asked him what was going on._

_"You love him still, don't you?" I told him that was ridiculous. He asked me why._

_Because it's emotional suicide, that's why, damn it._

_Only the first part of that got out. "Because." But again I received the grin and the cocky "why?"_

_I said I hadn't loved Han at all so it was impossible to love him still._

_"So what's stopping you from falling in love with him for the first time?" A question with many answers. I chose the obvious._

_"The fact that we have nothing in common... And twelve members of the High Council." And myself, but I didn't say that. He knew anyways._

_He told me that a lot of people were rooting for us. I probably replied with something along the lines of mm-hmm._

_"They are."_

_He sounded so earnest I asked him who._

_So he told me, "About a hundred soldiers, all members of the Rogue Squadron, one Wookiee, one General, one almost-Jedi, maybe two droids, I dunno how they think... and," he said softly, "one Corellian Pirate and his beat up YT-fighter, the fastest hunk-a-junk in the galaxy."_

_I hope they don't have their hearts set on a happy ending, I told myself. "The Falcon doesn't have opinions," I told him._

_To top off all matters, my therapist is still asking about Han. She seems fixated on that one aspect of my life. (Alderaan? What Alderaan?) And now she's trying to shove some of her stupid relaxation pictures into my room._

_If I weren't quite so old, I might lie down and have a good cry about this whole thing. But I'm twenty years old. Therefore, all of my crying is done standing._

_But Leia, you're not supposed to feel, remember?_

_Ice Princess indeed._

So we decided we needed to give the poor girl a hand.

-Janson

* * *

**Well?**


	15. Ups and Downs or A Trip to Ord Mantell

**Well, that was certainly strange. This chapter got changed somehow…. I apologize as I have lost all my replies to your reviews.**

**You know I love you.**

**And thanks so much to cookiemunster for pointing out that this went wrong. Love you!**

* * *

**Message sent at 1214 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

But, but – that's Leia's private stuff. And how… That's private!

Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 1214 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Didn't stop you from reading though, did it Junior?

Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 1215 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Well… no.

But wait; hold it- that entry's from six standard days ago. You've been up to something that long without talking to me?

Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 1216 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Told you he was gonna be mad.

Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 1218 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

I'm not mad, just… yeah, I'm mad.

And I'm almost afraid to ask, but how didja get it. One of you didn't walk in… I mean she would have noticed.

Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 1218 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Why don't you ask your little droid that one?

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 1219 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

You got Artoo to do it?! But- he's mine!

Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 1220 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Completely Wes's idea.

Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 1220 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

And a right smart one too. What have you been teaching that droid, Luke? He's a damn good thief.

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 1222 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Well, get on with it Janson. Luke has a right to know the rest now that you've gone and told him this.

Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 1223 hours. Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Fine. But first, don't put any sounds in your replies. My commander might come and we're supposed to be doing repairs.

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 1225 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Umm, Wes? I'm your commander.

Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 1225 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Sithspawn, you sure have loose discipline, don't you?

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 1226 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Get the hell on with it Wesy!

Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 1227 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Fine, fine. You people are a tough crowd, jeez.

So, basically we decided to give the girl a hand. But first we had to find out Han's side of the story. This is from the same day as Leia's, around a week ago:

**Falcon Ship Log**

**Day 24, Month 1, Year 3044**

**Repairs: Re-wired circuitry in hyperdrive, fixed fresher.**

**Note to self: Kicking the auto-dry screws the krethin' drying system. Kicking the bunkroom wall just hurts.**

So, obviously, that wasn't exactly what we wanted. So we checked back around the same time Leia says she started backing away, and look what we found. This is from right after lockdown:

**Falcon Ship Log**

**Day 15, Month 8, Year 3043**

**I dunno what's gotten into Her Worshipfulness. You'd think she be kinda grateful for what I did, or at least happy I got outta sick bay. I sure as hell am. **

**She was nice enough when I was confined to a bed, even visited me some, but only with Luke and when she thanked me for saving her life she was, I dunno, _cold_. Come on; first the Rebellion doesn't even give me a damn reward for saving their precious princess practically single-handed and then the lady herself snubs me? Where does it say to treat your troops like this – demoralization 101? **

**Actually, Leia looked kinda scared when I was talking to her earlier. I dunno what she thought I was gonna do to her, but she was all jumpy. She's never jumpy around Luke, damn it.**

**Maybe I'll just visit her later, see what's what.**

(He's jealous of you Lukie! Man, when we read this we decided that Leia's really got his head messed up.) And:

**Falcon Ship Log**

**Day 20, Month 8, Year 3043**

**It's getting really hard to track down Leia these days, almost like she's avoiding me. And whenever I catch up with her she always finds somewhere else to be. Maybe I hurt her feelings or something. **

**But I don't remember us havin' a fight.**

(Don't you just feel bad for the guy? I mean, we had to help him..) And:

**Falcon Ship Log**

**Day 24, Month 8, Year 3043**

**I dunno what's up with that girl. I can't get a single damn reaction from her. She don't say anything, don't react to anything, even when I insult her precious Alliance. She doesn't even blush anymore when I call her Sweetheart, and I could probably make passes at her all day and she wouldn't notice. It's like talking to a wall.**

**At first I thought it was just her in a bad mood at first, 'cept then I saw her laughing and joking around with Luke, damn him. I should just let this go, give up, and fly the hell outta here.**

**Problem is I'm still attracted to her.**

**I swear it's going to drive me crazy. I know every little thing about that woman; how she bites her lip when she's nervous, bites the inside of her cheek when she's trying not to smile, and I know what every damn movement of her eyebrow means. I can even pick out the smell of her perfume in a room after she's left. Sith, that drives me insane.**

**I'm gonna get a reaction from if I have to dangle her from her ankles into a pit of poisonous kwesters**.

_And_:

**Falcon Ship Log**

**Day 12, Month 9, Year 3043**

**Fine princess, you win. You wanna ignore me, fine. I give up.**

**She ain't that pretty anyways, I sure seen better. Luke can have her if he wants. Though, he's gonna need a lotta luck. I wouldn't wish Leia Organa on anybody.**

And…

Just kidding.

So we realized that this was going to take some supreme effort, ingenious tactics, and the famous Janson luck.

Janson

**

* * *

**

**Message sent at 1231 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Obviously, the plan ended up sadly lacking in all three.

Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 1232 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

It WORKED! That's the whole point.

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 1234 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

So what did you guys do? Without me.

Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 1234 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Hows about we show him Solo's next entry and see if he can guess, eh Wesy?

Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 1235 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Excellent suggestion. You see Wedge, Hobbie still defers to me for guidance. He has faith in me and my unfaultable plans, right Hobs?

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 1236 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

That wasn't a suggestion.

Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 1237 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Well, _I_ knew that, you knew that, but if you had just gone along with it we could have fooled him. Work with me here.

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 1237 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

I hate guessing games.

Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 1238 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Alrighty Luke, here's the next segment, one day after Leia's entry. See if you can guess what we did in the time between.

**Falcon Ship Log**

**Day 25, Month 1, Year 3044**

**Damn her.**

**And whatever stuff-shirted idiot decided that the disappearance of one of the mess's chairs was worth a krethin' meeting. Gods, how can you even tell if one of the damn things is missing? Do they count them, or something? I never realized that they put such a high value on furniture in the Alliance.**

**I guess that kinda screws up me and Chewie's plan to pinch a few and sell them as scrap metal if we're ever short on credits. Sith.**

**Stupid idiots. No wonder we're losing the war, sitting through meetings like that. Her Worshipfulness didn't look too happy about it either, only one on that Council with a lick a sense.**

**Still hate her, though.**

**Problem is I can't stop thinking about her. It's driving me crazy. I swear I could smell her perfume everywhere when I woke up this morning, even on Chewie's fur. I had to take a walk around base until the cold made it so's I couldn't smell anything anymore, even the stink from the mess hall.**

**But I can still smell her.**

**Kreth, I gotta stop this. Quick Solo, think of something else.**

**Well, Rieekan asked me to run a mission in five days. I accepted because it's really just easy cash (and a chance to get away from her).**

**Mission: Simple pickup. An Alderaanian pilot and some ex-storm trooper she flies around. Same guy who beamed the plans for the Death Star to Leia's ship, in fact. They specialize in secret missions, but they ran into some trouble on Ord Mantell or something and need to get outta there. We get in, we get out.**

**Pay: 45 hundred credits.**

**Then Rieekan called me up for the meeting about the damn chair. What the hell do they need me for? Do they think smugglers specialize in finding lost chairs? Yeah Jabba, the reason I dropped your load of spice was to look for a seatin' arrangement. **

**To add insult to injury, who do I end up sitting across from? The elusive lady herself. Of course she's the perfect little princess, listening to Dodonna shoot his mouth off about our sudden need for chairs, nodding at all the right parts. I tried to tune the man out and always ended up looking at her. I mean, she was right in front of me and all.**

**So really, it wasn't exactly my fault that Dodonna had to stop the stupid meeting and wait for me to pay attention. Five times.**

**Damn her.**

**Figures that today has to be the day Her Highness decided to wear her hair in a simple braid. Only Leia could make such an innocent hairstyle look… sexy.**

**Maybe I'm just doing this to myself. Sith, I need to get off this ice ball, find myself a girl who's willing. The only reason I'm looking at Leia Organa is cause she's the only thing around here to look at, that's all. **

**And, 'sides, she was right in front of me.**

**Damn her.**

You have a minimum of ten guesses, and a time limit of one time part. Ready, set, GO!

* * *

**Message sent at 1242 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Alright, umm… somehow you organized that meeting, just to get them together…

Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 1242 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Stole the chair.

Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 1243 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

And got Rieekan to give Dodonna the impression that we were short on chairs! Come on, there was some serious effort going into this.

Keep going Luke.

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 1244 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

You guys recruited Rieekan? Wow.

Well, somehow you got her perfume into his room. Wait, the perfume in the hanger bay…?

Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 1244 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Wes's doing.

Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 1245 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Hey! It was dark. I forgot about it.

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 1246 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

But Han said something about it being on Chewie's fur…

Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 1247 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Clumsy fuzzball split some on himself.

Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 1247 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Chewie too?!

Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 1248 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Well, who else was gonna put the perfume in his room?

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 1248 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

I could have. Gods. Who next, Threepio?

Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 1249 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Well, actually…

Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 1249 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

WHAT?

Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 1250 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

We couldn't understand what the damn Wookiee was saying, okay!

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 1251 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Turned out to be a bunch if stupid proverbs or something…

Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 1251 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

You picked _Threepio_ over me?!

Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 1251 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Do you speak Wookiee?

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 1252 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Well… no.

Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 1253 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

There's your problem.

And, Lukie, that wasn't all we did, oh no. We also got Rieekan to arrange for Solo to take that mission to Ord Mantell. The reach of our hand is far, my friend.

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 1254 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Wow. But… why?

Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 1254 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Despite anything Wedge says it was an important part of the plan. An I.M.P.O.R.T.A.N.T part of the plan, okay!! I know what I'm doing, damn it. I've been doing this for three years. I think a little trust is in order here, Lukie.

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 1254 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Ummm… sorry?

Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 1254 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Don't mind him Luke. He feels the need to justify his stupid manipulations of other people's lives. Self conscious, ya know?

Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 1255 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Luke, look at the next segment from our Princess and you'll know why I'm the lurve genius:

_Journal of Princess Leia Organa_

_25th Day, 1st Month, 3044th Year_

_I can't believe it. Kyle's alive. Alive!_

_I figured that when the Emperor discovered I had the Death Star plans aboard he also found out who sent them. I guess the Empire doesn't have as tight a grasp as they would like us to think._

_Kyle got away._

_Oh, I didn't know him well; just a few diplomatic seminars, a few dances, smiles, stolen glances._

_I can hardly remember his face at all; I probably couldn't pick him out in a crowd. We weren't even on first name terms when he left to become a storm trooper. Yes, yes; he's the enemy – well, he was. He turned right before Alderaan- before. Just in time to send me the plans._

_Ah yes, the whole Death Star plans idea. It was a far-fetched, hair-brained, last time-part sort of scheme. The star destroyer been examined by the galaxy's finest and came out as indestructible on all accounts. Of course, there was always the elusive 'if'. I remember everyone saying 'well, if we had the plans, maybe…'_

_And so, right before I was scheduled to leave on a diplomatic mission, Kyle gets a message through that he has the plans. Well, we thought, that's convenient. _

_Ha._

_So the rest of the story goes something along the lines of this; the enemy-turned-good beams the plans up to the Princess. Unfortunately, the evil Emperor happens to be a Jedi. (Funny how no one ever realized that before, how none of our spy's ever mentioned it. "Oh, and by the way, the evil master-mind in control of the universe also happens to be able to sense pretty much anything going on around him within a 2-lightyear radius. So don't try any transactions under his nose.") He finds out about our Princess, and sends his servant, also a Jedi (why am I not surprised), after her. She's captured, harassed, tortured, and rescued, not necessarily in that order. The end._

_Except Kyle's alive._

_Carlist came up and told me after a meeting – a meeting about chairs. Oh yes, chairs. Now honestly, having and Alliance meeting centered on chairs is, to me, under the same category as my therapist asking about potential boyfriends when she could be discussing the destruction of my home world. To say it doesn't make sense would be an understatement._

_In my fury (directed mostly at chairs; I almost didn't sit down) I forgot about my fight (I guess I could call it an epic by now) with Han, so I sat across from him, after subtly kicking it – the chair, not Han. And I almost forgot, almost commented on the stupidity of the whole meeting, but caught myself just in time. I wish now that I hadn't realized, because maybe if I had said something, maybe, just maybe he would have answered with a snide comment about the Alliance. And I would have laughed. Laughed and wouldn't have cared if I disrupted the damn meeting. And maybe then everything would have been fine again._

_But it does not due to dwell on maybes, or might-have-beens._

_Carlist says that the Captain's next mission is to collect Kyle and his Alderaanian (Alderaanian!) pilot from Ord Mantell, where they have run into some trouble. Apparently it's supposed to be extremely dangerous, storm troopers everywhere._

_And, despite everything – despite how Han's acting, how I'm acting – I'm worried._

Whadya think, Luke?

Janson

* * *

**  
Message sent at 0111 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Hey lurve genius; she was talking about another man the entire time.

Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 0112 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Come to think of it, we still have to find out who that guy is… Maybe we shoulda figured that one out before they left, eh Wesy?

Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 1113 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

It's all insignificant fluff. Look, with the way Han and the Princess are now a Prince could propose to her and nothing would happen.

Now, can you figure out what we did, Luke?

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0112 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Oh, I know, I know! You got Rieekan to make her think that the Ord Mantell mission's gonna be dangerous, so she'll be worried about Han.

Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 0113 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

…And realize her undying love for him, but you've got the gist of it.

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0113 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Hasn't she already realized her undying love for him?

Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 0114 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

She needed to re-realize it, alright. Stop questioning me.

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0115 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

I have one more question; you don't know who Kyle is?

Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 0116 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Well… not exactly.

Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 0117 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

How important can the guy be?

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0117 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Now do you understand why I'm ticked off, Luke? There are more holes in this plan than old storm trooper's armor.

Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 0118 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

I repeat – again – it worked!

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0119 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Technically you don't exactly know that. I mean, not until they've come back.

Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 0120 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

I rest my case.

Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 0121 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Sith Lukie, whose side are you on anyways?

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0121 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

His. At least while you keep calling me that stupid name.

Luke – not Lukie

* * *

**Message sent at 0122 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

It really doesn't matter what you think, cause if those two don't come back at least married... I'll eat my terminal!

Feast your eyes on this Luk(i)e.

_Journal of Princess Leia Organa_

_27th Day, 1st Month, 3044th Year_

_They say that right before you die you see your whole life flash before your eyes. Well that, my non-existent friend, is a big lie. There isn't even a standard light-at-the-end-of-a-tunnel phenomenon, for Goddess's sake._

_I, for one, feel slightly cheated._

_That's two bad things that have happened recently. First, Han getting the dangerous Ord Mantell mission, and now my almost-dying. And, as they always say, bad luck comes in threes._

_I guess this means I'll be looking out for falling terminals for awhile._

_Now obviously, I'm not dead. But I almost was, would be if it weren't for Han._

"_That's about thirty-four you owe me, Sweetheart."_

_But other than the whole near-death experience, I had a fairly common day. It started out normally enough; with the task of hiding snow. _

_You see, the Alliance wanted to expand our base on Hoth. The problem is, most of the Hoth base is underground, so when you dig there is nowhere for the snow to go without blocking other tunnels. Hence the snow-hiding. _

_Today, most of the base was recruited to the task of spreading the newly-dug snow around above ground. We were given strict instructions not to pile it up. Dodonna felt that a snow pile would be a dead-giveaway of our location. Oh yes, I can hear Darth Vader now: "Destroy all," – heavy breathing – "snow piles."_

_I guess it would be simple to terminate the whole planet then, wouldn't it?_

_I guess that was the logic that sealed Alderaan's end._

_In truth, the task of hiding snow was rather enjoyable on the whole. I talked with Luke and the other members of the Rogue Squadron as I was "spreading". We even started a giant snowball fight that was only stopped when Dodonna threatened mass court-martialing._

_Somehow, though, I was left alone with Han underground when collecting another load of snow to spread. What came next was expected; a large, very loud argument. But it was more like our old arguments, started only because Han made some kind of innuendo. It felt like things might finally be getting back to normal – or as normal as possible with that laser-brain. _

_Of course, that was the moment the mass of snow and ice chose to collapse around us._

_I was almost hit, but Solo pulled me away in time. When the debris cleared, I was lying on top of him. I know now I should have got up right away, but in all fairness I was in shock, and his arms were around me and I was really too winded to move. Then he reached up and brushed a wayward strand of hair out of my face, leaned in and…_

"_You know, you probably caused this with all your yellin'." _

_So typical of that man, that incorrigible, stubborn, beautiful man, to seduce me (however unknowingly) and then throw out that. But, my ever-present sense of reason says, some day, perhaps soon, he won't make a crass comment. Some day he'll have me in a position like that one and he won't say anything. Anything at all._

_And what, pray tell, will I do then?_

From this we came up with a sure fire way to get them together; just tape Han's mouth shut. They'd be in the sack within time parts. Unfortunately, this was scraped on the premise that none of us wanted to be the one to put the tape in place.

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0123 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

You caused an avalanche?!!!

Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 0124 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

No, of course not; that was just lucky.

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0124 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

LUCKY? Leia almost died?

Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 0125 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Yeah, but she didn't, did she? You see Hobs, this is why we shouldn't have let him in; he's still hung up on the princess. He's incapable of lookin' at the big picture.

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0126 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

I'm not hung up on Leia!

Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 0126 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Shut-up, Janson, before you make us look evil and insensitive.

Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 0126 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Too late.

Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 0127 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Oh, stuff it you two. Now do you understand why we had to drag you away from Solo and the Princess, Luke? We had to get them alone.

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0127 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

That was you? Well, okay, but couldn't you have told me that was what you were doing? I thought I was being kidnapped.

Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 0128 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

I told you putting the bag on his head was a bit over-the-top.

Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 0128 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Well, only good came out of it. Here's exactly how good:

**Falcon Ship Log**

**Day 27, Month 1, Year 3044**

**I must be crazy.**

**I don't know why I'm doing this. Okay, maybe I do, but it's still crazy.**

**You know, she'd probably be fine on her own without me. But just in case… Damn it all! I can't believe I'm saying this.**

**I think that maybe the attraction has turned into… well, something else. And my conscience, which I thought was gone (second time I've been wrong about that), is back. All I can think about is what if I hadn't been there… I mean, she would've died.**

**So, really, I'm not that crazy.**

**I'm staying, damn it. **

**I don't care what Jabba does. He can go screw himself. 'Cause I'm staying! Wonder what Her Worship will say to that? Maybe it's enough to get me a little kiss… or a thank-you, that'd be good too. But a kiss would be better.**

**The point is I'm staying. The other point is I may have a slight thing for the Princess. Maybe. The other, other point is I'm probably certifiably insane.**

**The way I look at it, Jabba would probably kill me if I went back now anyways. **

**Well, I choose life.**

Ah, excuse me while I bask in the glory of my creation… See Luke, I got him to stay _and _confess his undying love for her - sorta.

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0132 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Well, technically, he only stayed because she almost died and… you didn't cause that.

I think.

Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 0133 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Wesy's not that crazy.

Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 0133 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Aw. Does this mean you forgive me?

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0134 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Only if you promise not to show him Leia's last entry.

Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 0135 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

….Can I describe it? Please… This is my last major piece of evidence that my plan worked. You can't rob a poor guy of his glory, now can you?

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0136 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Fine.

Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 0136 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Yes! Okay Luke, she wrote this presumably after Han told her he was staying. So, um, that means she wrote it yesterday. They left last night, and the rest is history. Or it will be, you know, after it happens…

Anyways, it looked kinda like this:

_Journal of Princess Leia Organa_

_29th Day, 1st Month, 3044th Year_

_Love. Curious word, isn't it? And a frighteningly short word it is, to describe such powerful emotions. Deceptively short._

_Han's staying. For always, for ever. He told me so himself, at precisely 1235 hours. If you asked me the seconds I could give them to you. And the exact location he was (two steps from my window), and his expression (embarrassed and hopeful). If you wanted, I could provide you with all the details, tell you what the lighting looked like, the exact semblance of turmoil, which he claims to be a style, his hair was in. It's burned into my memory._

_But if you asked me what I was thinking when he said it, I couldn't tell you a thing. My mind seems to be in a state of blankness. Happy blankness, to be sure, but blankness nonetheless. I'll get back to you tomorrow. _

_Come to think of it, tomorrow just became today. Its one hour in the morning._

_Good gods. I can't even form coherent sentences anymore. Did you hear that Solo? You've rendered me truly and completely speechless._

_Maybe we should give him another medal. We can, now that he's staying._

_I thought I was going crazy when he first said it, blurted it out. I reacted instinctively, throwing myself at him. Into his arms, his body, his eyes._

_Which brings us back to that infamous word._

_Damn it; I really do need a therapist. Come on Organa, just say it. Deep breath, and say it. I refuse to leave it at my first declaration of – this – as lame. If he has my heart, I can at least I can retain my pride. Here's for the (hopefully) un-lame declaration._

_I love him. _

_(Funny how the hardest phrase I will ever write is eight letters long.)_

_I love him. _

_(Only three words.)_

_Love. _

_(Four letter word.) _

Give or take a sentence, I think that about sums it up. Alas though, Luke; that is all we got before Wes's damn good sense ruined the fun. I'm sure even Han would've liked to read some of these entries, sneaky bastard.

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0137 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Why Janson, I had no idea you felt that way about the good Captain.

Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 0138 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Now, are you sure that was exactly the way she wrote it; I'd hate to think I'd missed a major development in their relationship.

Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 0138 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

WES! THAT'S NOT A DESCRIPTION!

Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 0139 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Don't get all mad Wedge; Luke probably didn't even understand what Leia was really saying.

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0139 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

With the meaning being so hidden, and everything.

Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 0140 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Does anyone else see the mass invasion of privacy here?

Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 0141 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

Let me think about it…. nope, can't see a thing. I think it might be snow blindness.

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0142 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

I hate you, Janson.

* * *

**Message sent at 0143 hours, Day 30, Month 1, Year 3044**

I know, Antilles.

* * *

**Falcon Ship Log**

**Day 1, Month 2, Year 3044**

**How many clothes does it take to go on a six-day mission? I mean, sithspawn, some of those cases of hers were heavy. And I should know too; I lugged all of 'em onto the Falcon. All it took was a pretty-eyed little smile from her. I swear, at this point that woman could say jump and I'd ask "how high?"**

**Course, the idea that there was _under_-stuff buried somewhere in all that made the load a little lighter. A little. I'd have to see them out… and preferably on her to make it all better. Then again, her wearing nothing but one of them pretty blushes is a nice picture too.**

**Since we got no Chewie (he bailed suddenly right before take off, said somethin' about a fur problem), Leia had to be co-pilot. Turned out to be pretty damn good at it too, 'cept she looked kinda funny sitting in the Chewie's oversized chair, and spitting out stray bits of Wookiee hair.**

**We're in hyperspace now and it should take us about three standard days to get to Ord Mantell. We're supposed to meet our contacts at some little café… can't remembered the name, but it's not supposed to be under imp surveillance. Course, we're picking 'em up cause they got into imp trouble, so there's really no telling. Should be loads a fun.**

**I was dead on when I said being attracted to Leia would be potentially dangerous to my health. Dead on.**

**But she did kinda give me some encouragement today, just after we jumped to hyperspace.**

**We were – hang on, I was making breakfast; she was just stirring something sorta aimlessly – when I realized she was lookin' at me, like she used to in briefings before I got too good at catching her. 'Cept this time she didn't look away when I caught her. I asked her what she was looking at, and she said nothing. **

**Nothing, Your Worship?**

**It ain't nothing, I said. Well, she said, maybe something then. And then she turned back to her stirring, blushing hard enough to match the cor'pyth sauce. **

**I hit me at that point that she was flirting. Not obliviously, but nothing that women does is. After that I attempted to keep myself to short sentences and only mild innuendos to try not to scare her. But I guess my charm is a little rusty, 'cause no more "somethings" from her. **

**I did get some smiles, though.**

'**Cept I did burn the cor'pyth.**

**But, small miracle, we haven't got into a fight yet. This sure don't feel like a mission. I can even pretend like it's a vacation sometimes, the good kind of vacation, the Leia-asking-if-I-can-rub-lotion-on-her-back kind of vacation. **

**Problem is Ord Mantell doesn't have any beaches.**

* * *

**Meeting Transcript: On the Subject of Where is Leia Organa**

Yet again typed up by Wes Janson. That poor other guy is in sick-bay recovering from traumatic experiences, again involving a closet. Word is he won't go into any room smaller than 10 by 10.

You know, I wouldn't be here but apparently no one else wants to do this job. Funny that, can't imagine why-

**Mon M- Oops, that's Dodonna (Hmm, maybe she passed the esteemed job of monitoring what I type onto him):** Damn it Janson, we don't need you sarcasm in a time of crisis.

**Janson**: I wasn't aware there was a crisis sir.

**Dodonna**: One of our chief leaders is missing and you…. you… simply sit there, typing mundane ramblings into a blank screen!

**Janson**: Please don't use words I don't understand, commander. It makes me feel nervous.

**Mon Mothma**: Trouble Jan?

**Dodonna**: How do we let scum like this into our ranks?

**Mon Mothma**: Because we have a limited number of people interested in joining and our recruitment system is based on volunteers. Type up the summery Janson.

Her Royal Highness Leia Organa of Alderaan appears to be missing in action. Although, really she's simply on a lovers getaway with Captain So-

**Dodonna (Angrily might actually be an understatement here): **Janson, so help me-

**Mon Mothma**: Jan!

**Dodonna**: I refuse to let him belittle her like this, by throwing her in with Solo.

**Mon Mothma (reads what typist has written, and then, quietly): **Type what you're supposed to Wes.

Typist chooses not to comment on her use of his first name.

There have been attempts to contact the Princess via comlink, but to no avail. Captain Solo has been reached – many times – and has assured us that Leia is fine and willingly came along. The mission, which is to Ord Mantell, was assigned to Captain Solo of the Millennium Falcon, where Leia is supposedly residing. Captain Solo was to arrive on Ord Mantell, and retrieve two valuable contacts of the Rebellion, Jan Ors and Kyle Katarn. However, despite the note that Her Highness left in her chambers stating where she was going, and numerous comm. calls to the Falcon, some of which were answered by Organa herself, the High Council fears the worst; that Leia was kidnapped.

**Mon Mothma: **Well, what are you waiting for? You have to state who she was kidnapped by.

**Janson**: I don't write things I don't support. Personal policy of mine.

**Dodonna**: Janson, one more word and I will find someone to replace you.

**Mon Mothma (Under her breath):** That's an empty threat Jan. No one else wants the job. This is more effective; (Louder) Janson, type it up or I swear I'll take away your computer terminal!

**Janson**: Yes ma'am.

(I throw the old girl a bone now and then. Makes her feel important.)

The High Council is laboring under the delusion – ouch! – believes that Solo has kidnapped Her Highness and is holding her against her will. Oh, he's probably holding her, alright, but not exactly against her will. (More like against a wall-

**Mon Mothma**: JANSON! SO HELP ME I AM GOING TO-

**Dodonna**: You little –bleep– court martial –long successions of bleeps– –longer succession of blee-

Later:

The typist apologies for any improper terms or expressions he has placed in this recording.

He further apologizing for implying that General Jan Dodonna was uttering any words worth censoring, which of course is not true.

The meeting is adjourned until a replacement typist can be found.

Personally, the typist believes that this is a waste of time as it would be harmful to Leia – were she in any real danger – to postpone any proceedings. The typist once again stresses that the council that the council is stupid and-

End transcript.

* * *

**Message sent 0748 hours, Day 2, Month 2, Year 3044**

Your Highness? Please send immediate reply if you receive this.

Mon Mothma

* * *

**Message sent at 0748 hours, Day 2, Month 2, Year 3044**

Yes Mon? Is everything alright?

Leia

* * *

**Messag****e sent at 0748 hours, Day 2, Month 2, Year 3044**

I might ask the same of you Princess.

Mon Mothma

* * *

**Message sent at 0748 hours, Day 2, Month 2, Year 3044**

I'm fine, I can't imagine what you mean- Oh! Does this have anything to do with the number of com. calls control has placed to Solo, asking pointless questions?

Leia

* * *

**Message sent at 0749 hours, Day 2, Month 2, Year 3044**

Jan has gotten the idea that Captain Solo has taken you hostage.

Mon Mothma

* * *

**Message sent at 0749 hours, Day 2, Month 2, Year 3044 **

But I left the note in my chambers, and a message with the droid C-3PO. You must have heard them.

Leia

* * *

**Message sent at 0749 hours, Day 2, Month 2, Year 3044**

Yes. But princess; the note doesn't read like your writing. What were we supposed to think? You could have at least told someone in person, someone other than a droid.

Mon Mothma

* * *

**Message sent at 0749 hours, Day 2, Month 2, Year 3044**

I was rushed. Come on Mon, you didn't believe old Dodders, did you?

Leia

* * *

**Message sent at 0749 hours, Day 2, Month 2, Year 3044**

Well, his… lack of faith in Solo is catching.

Mon Mothma

* * *

**Message sent at 0749 hours, Day 2, Month 2, Year 3044**

By lack of faith you mean paranoia, don't you?

Leia

* * *

**Message sent at 0750 hours, Day 2, Month 2, Year 3044**

Leia!

* * *

**Message sent at 0750 hours, Day 2, Month 2, Year 3044**

If he just gave Han half a chance….

Look; I'm fine, Mon. I simply went on this mission because I was told it was dangerous and I thought Han might need help.

Leia

* * *

**Message sent at 0750, hours, Day 2, Month 2, Year 3044**

I was told this mission was perfectly safe.

Mon Mothma

* * *

**Message sent at 0750 hours, Day 2, Month 2, Year 3044**

But that can't be right.

Leia

* * *

**Message sent at 0750 hours, Day 2, Month 2, Year 3044**

I assure you it is.

Mon Mothma

* * *

**Message sent at 0752 hours, Day 2, Month 2, Year 3044**

You thought he could use some help?

Mon Mothma

* * *

**Message sent at 0752 hours, Day 2, Month 2, Year 3044**

You've been talking to Carlist.

Leia

* * *

**Message sent at 0752 hours, Day 2, Month 2, Year 3044**

Princess, it's my job to talk to General Rieekan.

Mon Mothma

* * *

**Message sent at 0752 hours, Day 2, Month 2, Year 3044**

But not to listen to him.

Leia

* * *

**Message sent at 0754 hours, Day 2, Month 2, Year 3044**

Please be careful, Leia.

Mon Mothma

* * *

**Message sent at 0754 hours, Day 2, Month 2, Year 3044**

By that you mean to lock myself in the 'fresher until we land.

Leia

* * *

**Message sent at 0754 hours, Day 2, Month 2, Year 3044**

I said careful, not paranoid.

Mon Mothma

* * *

**Message sent at 2108 hours, Day 2, Month 2, Year 3044  
**

ATTENTION REBELS:

It seems that our poll results have taken a drastic turn. Now, of course, considering that our esteemed Princess and Captain are in space and it is impossible to monitor any developments – should they occur – we will do our best to try and estimate upon their return. Hopefully they will make it obvious (i.e. one of them comes back with the other in a body bag, they come back married, kiss passionately upon exiting the Millennium Falcon, etc.). In the event that it is not obvious what has occurred, you will simply have to trust my revered judgment.

**1. Kill Each Other Within a Week: 0 bets**

**2. Between The Sheets In a Week: 1 bet**

**  
3. Kill Each Other Within a Day: 0 bets**

**  
4. Between The Sheets In a Day: 69 bets**

The results speak for themselves. I mean, come on people; they're alone in space together! They can only play sabaac for so long.

Wes Jason

* * *

**Message sent at 2110 hours, Day 2, Month 2, Year 3044**

Wes, how exactly are they alone in space together?

Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 2111 hours, Day 2, Month 2, Year 3044**

We got Chewie, remember?

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 2112 hours, Day 2, Month 2, Year 3044**

Right. So you got Chewie, Threepio, R2, Rieekan… who don't you have?

Luke

* * *

**Message sent 2112 hours, Day 2, Month 2, Year 3044**

Well… we're still working on Mothma.

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 2113 hours, Day 2, Month 2, Year 3044**

Ha.

Um, Wes - you said something in mess about having another person helping out with this whole Han and Leia thing. Who?

Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 2113 hours, Day 2, Month 2, Year 3044**

Leia's therapist.

Janson

* * *

_Journal of Princess Leia Organa_

_3rd Day, 2nd Month, 3044th Year_

_Written on Han's bunk sometime in the evening, while waiting for my hair to dry._

_Sadly, I'm not sure what I'm going to do with it when it's dry. Up or down? With or without wisps? Braids or… braids? A trivial problem, yes, but a problem none the less. (Maybe I should alert my therapist.)_

_It is, after all, my first date in nearly two years. _

_Well, to tell truth, it's not exactly a date. More like a contact pickup. Even so, Han and I will have to make polite conversation over dinner for a standard hour before we meet our contacts (to ensure it looks genuine to anyone watching – Kyle is very careful). Last that I checked, Han are not particularly apt at polite conversation. Still, I've decided I may as well look decent._

_So, up or down?_

_My dress is certainly the prettiest I've worn in years, since Alderaan- It looks well enough. And, solely to please Han, it's not white. It's cream. _

_I think up would be best. Yes, up, but loosely._

_The makeup turned out fine, I believe. Subtle, but, well, at least you can see it is there. And I'm not the least worried that the last women I saw the Captain gawking at had access of it adorning her face. Not worried in the least._

_Maybe down would be better. But, Alderaanian women never wear their hair down. Then again, he doesn't know that…_

_I've been practicing walking around in the heels. (Han knocked on the door earlier, inquiring as to what all the thudding was. He told me that he wouldn't stand for furniture moving.) As long as we don't walk anymore than ten steps at a time, I think I should be fine._

_Up, I think. I've decided up._

_Or maybe down._

* * *

**Hey Sweetheart. We should write anything 'bout the mission down here, just in case there're imps around. Don't see any, but better safe than sorry.**

_So this is why you asked the serving droid for a data pad. I thought you'd finally cracked. _

**Nope. That happened a long time ago.**

_I'm sure._

**You missed it.**

_Pity_.

**Isn't it. **

**You look beautiful.**

_What the- You could have easily said that out loud Han._

**Easily.**

-

_For stars sakes – I didn't mean that loud. _

**Thought the café might wanna know. Then again, being a smart looking group of bipeds, I think they could have concluded that themselves.**

_I thought this was solely for mission information._

**You are my mission Sweetheart.**

_You- you belong in a sleazy holo-vid._

**Oh come on. I'm so good-looking no holo-vid could afford me.**

_You mean no holo-vid could afford your ridiculously high prices. _

**You cut me deep, beautiful. And I charge to get by. If I charge high blame the cutthroat galaxy, not me.**

_Cutthroat galaxy?_

**Yup**.

-

_Han, maybe we should have a conversation out loud as well. This must look a little strange._

**Good point. Sure you can handle two conversations with my amazing wit.**

_Fairly sure._

**But not all sure.**

_For the love of the maker, flyboy, pass this under the table next time._

**Sorry**.

-

**So what should we talk about?**

_I'm not sure. Whatever happened to your amazing wit?_

**The sight of you drives it from my mind.**

_Oh, for goddess' sakes. Talk about the weather._

-

_I meant the weather on this planet, laser-brain! _

**Of course you did.**

_We're getting looks._

**You're getting looks. And they're mainly from males. They don't look like they care what your talking about, they care more about your-**

_Shut. Up._

**Okay, fine. Damn; you didn't have to pull it away from me.**

**-**

**Leia, are you glad I'm staying?**

_Wha- where did that come from? This pad is strictly for issues involving the mission. And it looks strange if suddenly, in the middle of our conversation, you put you head down and look at something under the table._

**Sorry. But are you glad?**

_Well… yes._

**You're glad?**

_I'm glad._

**How glad?**

_Very glad._

**How glad is very glad?**

_It's- oh, I don't know. It's very glad._

**Why are you glad?**

_Well… because._

**That isn't an answer.**

**-**

**So, since we're supposed to be a couple- shouldn't you kiss me or something?**

_Or something?_

**Alright, let me rephrase that. Shouldn't you kiss me?**

_I, well- do you want me to kiss you?_

**Why are you answering my question with another question?**

_Why are you?_

-

**You know, I meant on the lips.**

_So did I. I missed._

**Well, I have slightly better aim.**

_Really._

**Uh-huh.**

_Prove it._

-

**I didn't miss.**

_I know._

-

**D'ya think those are our contacts?**

_Who?_

**The girl by the bar. She's standing beside the tall guy.**

_The girl with the long hair?_

**Looks kinda Alderaanian, doesn't it? **

_Just wait to see if they give the signal._

-

_Han look at the door! That's a bount-_

* * *

**Falcon Ship Log**

**Day 4, Month 2, Year 3044**

**I don't care what Chewie says. What the hell does he know about anything? Nothing.**

**I've stuck around here with these optimistic lost causes for too long now. They don't need me around anymore. We're leaving just as soon as I can fix up the Falcon. These rebels can all rot for all I care.**

**Kid thinks I've lost it. Don't care. **

**I shouldn't have stayed around this long. This sith-forsaken price on my head makes it way to dangerous. Don't want anyone to get hurt 'cause of it. Especially not me.**

**I'm not gonna miss them. Right after I pay off Jabba, I'm gonna go find myself a cheap girl, have some fun. **

**Course, Jabba might not let me live.**

**I don't care what she says. Her Highness didn't even give me a chance to explain why I had to leave. Just said she should have known. What the hell should she have known? She doesn't know why I'm leaving, and she has the guts to tell me she should have known- I don't care. You know what, Her Worship didn't want to listen; why should I go outta my way to tell her? I'm only leaving to protect her… but princesses and mercenaries, we just don't work, do we. No point in pretending, like it's some krethin' fairy tale. **

**I don't care. And I don't care what they say. I'm not gonna bother to tell them why I'm leaving. Let 'em have their stereotypes.**

* * *

_Journal of Princess Leia Organa_

_5th Day, 2nd Month, 3044th Year_

_I__hate him._

_It's taken me this long to determine this. Well, I've been blind. I'm thankful that he at least showed his true colours before it was too late, before I made a fool out of myself confessing to feelings that he could never return. Or maybe he would have lied and professed false declarations, stayed for one night of fun, and left me in an empty bed, alone with my regret and his broken promises._

_They say thumacks can't change their spots. I guess it's the same of mercenaries._

_Maybe he was hoping for some action on the way to Ord Mantell. When he didn't get it, he decided to cut his losses and announce his impending departure. I don't want to believe it, but he's left me with no choice. _

_He's left me, he's leaving. Not that we were anything close enough to allow for the use of the term._

_It's better this way. Much better._

_I hate him._

_If you repeat things enough you begin to believe them. I'm relying on the truth of that saying._

* * *

**Mission Transcript: **

Ord Mantell Mission

**Status**: Unsuccessful

**Summary**: Before rebel soldiers Captain Han Solo and Princess/Senator Leia Organa could establish contact with pilot Jan Ors and partner Kyle Katarn a bounty hunter attempted to shoot Solo. The off-target shot almost killed Leia Organa, but she was pushed to safety by Solo. They escaped, but the present location of Ors and Katarn is unknown. The blaster bolt hit and killed a pregnant female, sitting at a table behind Solo and Organa.

* * *

**Well?**


	16. Artifacts of a NonRelationship

**Howdy! No, I'm not dead, or comatose...but then, you ask, why the lack of an update? Well, you see...**

**I'maverybadpersonwhoislazyandIamverysorry. **

**But I'm back, so, yay? **

**Yes. **

**Ahem.**

**I would like to thank all my reviewers, who stuck with me even when I appeared to be dead, or one of the aforementioned afflications. Even the ones who came up with very creative death threats, which, suprising, spurred my muse on. That does by no standards mean you have to threathen me all the time. :) **

**So, I have a compainion. It's called Unoffical Notes of the Rebellion, and it is by _Tinuviel Undomiel_ and _Nerwen Aldarion_****. Go check it out! Oh and (shameless plug for my own story here) go check out my other stuff and my new story _Assortments. _**

**Anyways, on to the review replies.**

**KnightedRogue: **Hey there, KR. I'd just like to thank you, for being so lovely. Your reviews are always a pleasure to read, and very encouraging. Thanks so much for sticking with me all this time. I love your writing.

You are one of the main reasons this story has been updated. Thanks,

LL

(P.S. Glad you found the stab at COPL.)

**Jillie Rose: **Thank you so much! I'm glad that you like it.

**Sparkzi: **Thank you! And look! I updated!

**Faire Cuthalion: **Yes, my lack of an e-mail is sad. I will aquire one shortly and we can work out the details, but sure, if you want you can transalate this into Spanish. Being Canadian the only other language I speak is French, so... But really, go ahead. I'll get back to you soon.

**Reading Redhead: **Oh my goodness, that was such a thoughtful review. Thank you _so much _for writing this to me. I love to hear this and am so glad that you like my story. I am flattered behond words... and please don't go into a medical condition. I've updated.

Thank you again for the lovely review.

**ali: **Thank you very much!

**C****ooking Spray: **Wow. Such a long review that I can not possibly do justice in a reply. I am so happy to hear such reviews, and they are one of the things that keep me writing. Thank you for taking the time to tell me this, it made my day... week. I hope you enjoy the update.

**not a member yet: **Actually, I haven't really exactly written anything to do with UNOTR. We just make sure eachother's timelines work out and everything.

**Zazzie: **Still here! And what exactly is the Year of Secret Assignments?

**Vespera: **Thank you! I updated!

**Silindro: **Thank you!

**Steph Silverstar: **Thank you!

**Snail-sama: **Thank you!

**Hold-outTrout: **Yes! Someone who isn't threatening me! Thank you!

**Saturns Darkness: **I own a corner of you soul! But heavens, what do I do with it?

**Dana Shields: **Thank you!

**TheDaughterOfKings:**I updated!

**EvaYasha: **Thank you! And I updated!

**Saber Girls: **Glad you like it!

**Dude Wheres My Cheese: **Thank you so much!

**jude firefly: **Thank you so much!

**libraflyter: **I'm going all the way with this story. I'm going to give them a happily ever after if it kills me!

**HanSolosGal: **Hey, I saw you over at LP's site! Glad to see you hear, even if you are threatening to tan my hide. And yes, you did see me review over at KR's story. I only come back from the dead for special occasions. :) Eeep! You're Sticksy padwan! Look, I updated!

**RowenaR: **Thank you!

**Aladailey: **Thank you!

**Bittersweetbloodbaby: **I assure you I did not die. I did update!

**RockinLizzy: **I'm glad you like it!

**Angel of Fire SG: **Thank you!

**Marian Aries: **Thank you so much!

**Jedi Anais: **I updated!

**Mrshansolo: **I updated!

**Darth Manson: **Thank you so much!

**Kate: **I updated!

**The Incrediable Secret: **Actually, that was a mistake. I think I fixed it...

**Rivergem: **Thank you!

**HRHpadmeamidala: **Thank you!

**Gilraen Luinew: **Actually I did have writers block. Sorta. Combind with laziness. And I update, pleasedon'tkillme!

**freetrader: **Thank you! (Did I really get a whole room hooked?) And I updated! I left no one in the dark (except maybe Wes's fan club...)

**Fallen Fantasist: **I updated!

**DestinyofInsanity: **Hey, you know, this story's been getting alot of marriage offers...

**Clare: **I updated!

**Elentari of Woodside: **Thank you!

**Cookiemunster: **Gosh, I have to thank you again for pointing out what happened to chapter 15. That was so weird...

**Bail's Other Daughter: **I assume you are refering to the really weird thing that happened to chapter 15of this. Sorry about that!

**shanesnest: **Well, thank you!

**Ilea Dreike: **Hey, if it were up to me, Han and Leia woulda hooked up on the first Death Star, in a closet or something... But alas, then there would be no story (not to mention it would be an AU).

**BuffyFan: **I didn't exactly update fast...

**dramaqueenV: **Thank you very much!

**Kinelea: **I'm glad you like it!

**Eruannelaviriel: **Thank you!

**niki: **Thank you! You vote for a Mon Mothma/Janson pairing! Wow, if nothing else, I will say you're original. Actually, I've been leaning toward a Mon Mothma/Rieekan here (not that I'm going to do anything about them, I just wrote them together as if they were in love). But Mothma/Janson... I can actually see that too.

**Augusta: **Thank you!

**tinglymonkee: **Seth Cohen! I love him sooooo much. Does Wes sound like him?

**Kalena: **Wish granted. I'm writing for all the films.

**Sunsoarer: **Sorry, I'm only gonna stick to Han and Leia. But you love me enough to stick around, right:) Glad you like it.

**Lynn: **Parents threating to take you to the insane asylum? Yeah, I got that threat too... and I wasn't even reading fanfiction.

**MistyRiver: **Thank you so much!

**Trout: **Thank you very much!

**Webogirl: **Hey there! Nice to see from you again. And its great to see your fic updated (which I have been reading and not reviewing, bad me). I promise to get over there and drop you a line.

**DayDreamer: **Thank you so much!

**Emerald Green Queen: **Yes, I have adjusted it to two years from ANH to ESB, partly because Icouldn't wait to get here, and partly because I ran out of places and things for them to do.

**Twitch's Poptarts: **Thank you!

**Lerie: **Husband and best friend? I'm flattered. Thank you!

**LVB: **Well, here's an update.

**Persephone Darkblood: **Thank you very much!

**The Weird One: **Thank you!

**Ieyre: **Yeah, Han and Leia don't seem to even catch a break, do they?

**Thorney: **Uh-oh. Another person claiming to hold their breath until I update. _Limelight runs to die 911. _Hang in there! I updated! You can inhale now!

**calgary: **Nope, this story ain't over yet. (I guess I really don't know the meaning of quit while you're ahead...)

**Geeky and Freaky: **Thanks. I'm glad someone approves of my cliffhanger...

**Pitdroid: **Oh the Rogues never fix messes, only make them.

**Uozumi: **Thank you!

**levisrictusias: **Thank you!

**Me: **Thank you!

**Mirielle: **_"Aw... poor pregnant female sitting behind Han and Leia! You've just got to pity all of those sentient life forms who died in the constuction of the relationship."_

Limelight dies laughing.

Oh, and thanks for pointing out the Wes/Wedge thing. God, I am so out of it sometimes.

**Evy: **Here's more for ya.

**Anna: **Yes, my chapters are long. I hope this makes then worth the wait. Or not, as it was a very long wait...

**Professor Spork: **Yes, this is all Janson's fault. Glad you liked it.

**yo: **I hope from now on I will update on a more regular basis too.

**lurker2209: **Thank you! And yes, as you can see I am going to do ESB.

**RivendellWriter: **Hi! Good to see you're still alive. And I agree, all Han and Leia need is a pair of muffins.

**Eridala: **Thank you!

**Celebroch Earandir: **Thanks! Oh no, you check this daily. Oh, I'm so sorry...

**SailorLeia: **Hey! It's great to hear from you. (Oh dear, you wished me Merry Christmas in this review. I'm so late!) Thanks for the lovely review.

**Lady Kaika: **Thank you!

**GreatOne: **Hey you. And, yeah, I was feeling evil when I wrote the pregnant women bit. Thanks.

**Armiena: **Hey, thank you!

**vegemite: **Thank you!

**dm1: **Thanks for dropping by. I'm glad you liked it.

**Prudence-chan: **Well, it did take me a long time to update, but I did!

**Sweetdeath04: **Nope, not dead! Thanks for the nice review.

**Tigercatcher: **While your checking lost property, look for my muse. I think she's in there somewhere.

**Sith Lord Darth Reven: **Thank you!

**Tinuviel Undomiel: **Hey! I love UNOTR, in case you don't already know. Sorry for the lack of an update, and the lack of word to you. And thank you for your lovely comments. And where on earth does Hobs die? Where? And I love what you did with Jan and the slumber party!

**princess5013: **Thank you!

**Nerwen Aldarion: **Yes, well, I didn't exactly update soon, did I? Sorry. Glad you like it.

**artemisian: **Yes, true, I did kill a pregnant women. I am evil. :) And I'm glad you like Wes.

**Here's the next chapter, and we've finally hit ESB. Great. **

**Enjoy.**

**...Or, whatever.**

* * *

**Message sent at 1631 hours, Day 5, Month 2, Year 3044**

Hey Leia. Heard you just got in last night.

Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 1631 hours, Day 5, Month 2, Year 3044**

Yes.

* * *

**Message sent at 1632 hours, Day 5, Month 2, Year 3044**

Er… saw your mission wasn't successful.

Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 1632 hours, Day 5, Month 2, Year 3044**

Yes.

* * *

**Message sent at 1632 hours, Day 5, Month 2, Year 3044**

So. Han isn't staying around anymore, is he?

Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 1634 hours, Day 5, Month 2, Year 3044**

No.

* * *

Interactive Guide to Therapists

Volume 42: Humans

Section 12 (Client is not/is having trouble recovering from extreme emotional distress)

_Please answer the following questions and wait for _Interactive Guide© _to reply. We ask you to refrain from speculation about the client (ex. Client avoids relationships because of past experience with lover), and we request that you do not use adjectives or names, as this confuses _Interactive Guide©.

**-**

**Is your client male or female? What is the age of your client? Please give a small summary of your client below.**

Client is female, aged nineteen. Occupation is as a soldier/ leader of a Rebellion.

Client has been trained as a nurse (basic training only), has had extensive training in self defence. I have been informed by client's superiors that client is a good soldier. Client reportedly has no emotion when killing. I inquired if killing bother client. Client responded by saying that she has been trained so that it does not.

Client does not speak about her childhood.

Client does not like to talk about feelings. Client prefers instead when I tell her exactly which hormones trigger certain emotions (rather like a terminal patient likes to know what is damaged, what cells have malfunctioned, etc). I asked client why this is and she informed me that it makes her feel in control.

Client appears to be afraid of forming close relationships. Client is especially afraid of being out of control of her feeling towards others. Client automatically pushes everyone away when the relationship becomes too intimate for her comfort.

**-**

**What was the cause of the extreme emotional distress and how long has it been since the occurrence.**

Client was prisoner on the star-destroyer **Death Star**. Client was tortured for information, given various drugs, subjected to a mind probe. I believe client was raped, though there is no record of it. Client was then made to watch as her home world was destroyed.

Client has since stopped speaking the language of her home world. In a recent visit, I enquired as to what language the client's thoughts were in. Client paused for a minuet, as if to think, and then told me that they were now in Basic. (Here I assume that they were before in the language of client's home world.) Client does not know when this change occurred. Client still wears the hairstyles and clothing of the planet.

It has been two years and two months since the occurrence.

**-**

**What was the client's initial response to the occurrence? What is the client's attitude towards it now?**

Client's attitude has not changed; client still deals with the occurrence the same way. Client avoids all things to do with her home world, refuses to speak the language, avoids social outings and large crowds, does not forge close relationships, and client throws herself into her work. Client does not eat sometimes. I asked client why this is, client replied that "she forgets".

In the first few weeks after the occurrence client had emotional breakdowns upon seeing pictures of her torturer and hearing his name. Client tells me she still experiences flashbacks.

Directly after the occurrence, client was subjected to intensive nerve therapy. The torture caused client to lose feeling in her hands and her upper left arm. Through the therapy client has regained feeling in her hands, but in a certain area of client's arm the nerves are dead. Client has confessed to me that sometimes she presses them very hard, and that this often leaves bruises.

In client's journal, which I instructed her to write in, there is no mention of these problems. Client is maintaining an air of composure for the world and appears to be carrying this façade over into her journal. Instead, client fills its pages with mentions of a man, and trivial information about her social life. There is no mention of the Rebellion or tactical manoeuvres client is involved in. Client especially avoids writing of battles or skirmishes, and client rarely records her missions, with the exception of the ones where she is accompanied by the aforementioned man.

**-**

**Please wait while Interactive Guide© processes this information.**

_**Error. Interactive Guide© has not been programmed to deal with this type of problem. Please enter different information and try again.**_

**Enter your new information here:**

I give up, Leia.

_**Error. Interactive Guide© has not been programmed to deal with this type of problem. Please enter different information and try again.**_

**Enter your new information here:**

**-**

_Please note that Interactive Guide© only has knowledge of typical situations and may not be able to answer all questions._

* * *

**Message sent at 0600 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

ATTENTION REBELS:

Contraire to popular belief, the base does not have unlimited power. We ask you to please refrain from using your terminals unless absolutely necessary.

The High Council

* * *

**Message sent at 0600 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

Hobs?

* * *

**Message sent at 0601 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

Present, Wesy.

* * *

**Message sent at 0601 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

Wedge?

* * *

**Message sent at 0602 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

Rodger.

* * *

**Message sent at 0602 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

…Dodger.

* * *

**Message sent at 0602 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

Over.

* * *

**Message sent at 0603 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

Out.

* * *

**Message sent at 0603 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

360.

* * *

**Message sent at 0604 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

Wes, you mean to tell me that when I said 'out' the first thing that came to your mind was '360'?

* * *

**Message sent at 0604 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

No. You see, the real hidden meaning there was that I was in love with your mother. Gods, Wedge. Get with the program.

* * *

**Message sent at 0605 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

Um… guys?

* * *

**Message sent at 0605 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

Lukie?

* * *

**Message sent at 0606 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

Dude, yes! We've finally converted him.

* * *

**Message sent at 0606 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

Welcome to the wonderful world of 'wasting the base's power, Luke.'

* * *

**Message sent at 0607 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

Wedge, what is it with you and putting those little '' thingies around all your words?

* * *

**Message sent at 0607 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

Quotation marks, Janson. The add emphasis.

* * *

**Message sent at 0608 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

Spare me.

* * *

**Message sent at 0608 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

Actually, I was just gonna ask you if you got the notice from the High Council. We're not supposed to be messaging.

Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 0609 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

Damn.

* * *

**Message sent at 0609 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

Fool child coulda been a choir boy.

* * *

**Message sent at 0610 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

Well. We tried. That's all anyone can ask.

* * *

**Message sent at 0611 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

I guess you got the notice then, huh.

Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 0611 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

Just like we tried to get Solo and the Princess in the sack, eh Wesy? It don't matter that we failed, 'cause trying s'all that all anyone can ask?

* * *

**Message sent at 0612 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

Hey, there is no 'we' involved here. Leave me outta this, Hobs. I plead objectivity.

* * *

**Message sent at 0612 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

Don't be such a stick in the mud, Wedge. It doesn't suit you.

…And you might wanna get some help. For the quotations thing.

* * *

**Message sent at 0613 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

Stick in the mud, Wes? Oh man, somebody get this boy some testosterone quick. His inner male's vital signs are fading.

* * *

**Message sent at 0613 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

Then how exactly am I still alive, Hobs?

* * *

**Message sent at 0614 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

Dude, I said inner male. Your inner female is still coming through loud and clear.

* * *

**Message sent at 0614 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

Would you guys mind signing your messages? This is getting confusing.

Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 0614 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

Lukie, Lukie, Lukie. The Council can read signatures. If we sign they'll know who we are, and that we're purposely using up the last of the base's power.

* * *

**Message sent at 0615 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

…And the fact that we've used each other's names already won't cross their minds at all, eh Wes?

* * *

**Message sent at 0616 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

Exactly Hobs.

Hey, I know. We can use pseudonyms to hide our identities!

Wesimila

* * *

**Message sent at 0617 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

Wesimila?

Han Solo

* * *

**Message sent at 0617 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

She's my inner female.

May I ask why you have stolen the good Captain's name, Hobs?

Wesimila

* * *

**Message sent at 0618 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

He owes me money.

Han Solo

* * *

**Message sent at 0618 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

He owes everyone money. There's certainly no need to make this thing personal.

Wesimila

* * *

**Message sent at 0618 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

'Cause what we did to him wasn't personal at all.

Han Solo

* * *

**Message sent at 0618 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

You know, him and Leia are really upset with each other. I just talked to Chewie, and he said that Han was leaving as soon as they finished last minute repairs. And Leia'll hardly talk to me anymore.

Walker

* * *

**Message sent at 0619 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

Bet that really broke your heart, eh Lukie?

Han Solo

* * *

**Message sent at 0619 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

Shut up.

Walker

* * *

**Message sent at 0619 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

This is why we should've just let them alone. Now they have absolutely no chance of being happy.

Egdew

* * *

**Message sent at 0620 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

Egdew. Ugh. You're so unoriginal Wedge.

Wesimila

* * *

**Message sent at 0620 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

Oh yeah, well no self respecting girl would be caught dead with a name like Wesimila.

Seriously, you better promise to leave those two alone.

Egdew

* * *

**Message se****nt at 0620 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

Now why would I promise a fool thing like that?

Wesimila

P.S. My inner female ain't no self-respecting girl. She's a wild one!

* * *

**Message sent at 0621 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

Maybe we should leave them alone. I mean, they won't even stay in the same room as each other. Like, they won't even be in the hanger bay together, and that thing's big.

Walker

* * *

**Message sent at 0621 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

Does anyone actually _know_ what happened on Ord Mantell? Anyone at all.

Han Solo

* * *

**Message sent at 0622 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

Nope.

* * *

**Message sent at 0622 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

Not a clue.

* * *

**Message sent at 0623 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

Actually, I read the mission transcript. Said something about a bounty hunter.

Walker

* * *

**Message sent at 0625 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

You read the mission transcript?

You. …Read the mission transcript.

Edgew

* * *

**Message sent at 0625 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

Dude, how'd you do it? I've been trying to get into those things for years.

Wesimila

* * *

**Message sent at 0626 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

Luke, you officially just got the 'i' removed from your name.

Han Solo

* * *

**Message se****nt at 0627 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

Um, thanks Hobbie. But, ah, guys… I am a commander now. They let us see those things. I know you like to think I've gone all corrupt and everything, but…

If it makes you feel any better, I don't wear the Alliance Issue socks.

Walker

* * *

**Message sent at 0627 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

Wow, Luke. Alliance issue socks everywhere are crying outrage at your massive demonstration of defiance.

Wesimila

* * *

**Message sent at 0628 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

Lukie.

Han Solo

P.S. I would like to draw the committee's attention to the 'i'… It's back, baby!

* * *

**Message sent at 0628 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

I knew you didn't have the backbone to do it.

I'm proud of you.

Edgew

* * *

**Message sent at 0629 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

Antilles, boy, if all your compliments are like that, it's no wonder Binda left you.

Han Solo

* * *

**Message sent at 0629 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

Whatever you say, drool man…

(Somehow, that doesn't look as masculine typed.)

Edgew

* * *

**Message sent at 0630 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

Ah, weren't we trying to figure out what happened on Ord Mantell?

Walker

* * *

**Message sent at 0631 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

Yup. I just went next door and asked around. You see guys, the Council putting the Rogue Squadron bunks at beside the locker room wasn't a punishment. Sure the smell's bad, but damn - do we keep good tabs on the gossip, or what?

Word on the street is that Solo said he was staying and now he's changed his mind. Presumably because of something that happened on Ord Mantell.

Wesimila

* * *

**Message sent at 0632 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

…That's it?

Edgew

* * *

**Message sent at 0632 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

Well, there was this other theory that Solo's the Princess's sex slave and she only just cut him loose.

Wesimila

* * *

**Message sent at 0633 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

My credits're completely on that one.

Han Solo

* * *

**Message sent at 0633 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

As opposed to only partially on it?

Wesimila

* * *

**Message sent at 0633 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

Look Janson, promise me you're not gonna meddle with them this time. If you do, I'll… tell Solo what you've been doing.

Edgew

* * *

**Message sent at 0634 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

I'm shaking in my Rebel issue boots (and non-Alliance issue socks – I'm willing to come out of the sock closet if you are, Lukie boy). I'll just bribe him with Leia's journal entries.

Wesimila

* * *

**Message sent at 0634 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

I'll sick Chewie on you.

Edgew

* * *

**Message sent at 0635 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

He wouldn't touch me. I got Leia's hair product out of his fur that time she and Solo got a bit too liberal with where they were aiming.

Wesimila

* * *

**Message sent at 0635 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

I hear he's still upset about the whole perfume incident.

Edgew

* * *

**Message sent at 0636 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

…Oh yeah, well your pseudonym sounds like a sneeze!

Wesimila

* * *

**Message sent at 0637 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

Fine.

Wesimila

* * *

**Message sent at 0637 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

I'll do it.

Wesimila

* * *

**Message sent at 0637 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

But I'm not shutting down the betting pool.

Wesimila

* * *

**Message sent at 0644 hours, Day 2, Month 2, Year 3044**

…Does forcibly preventing Han from leaving count as meddling?

Wesimila

* * *

**Message sent at 0646 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

Brilliant, Supreme Commander. I don't think I've ever seen them begin to message that fast.

Rieekan

* * *

**Message sent at 0646 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

Carlist, you flatter me. They can't resist disobeying direct orders. I simply twisted their illegal tendencies to my own advantages.

Mothma

* * *

**Message sent at 0646 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

Dodonna'd be proud.

Rieekan

* * *

**Message sent at 0646 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

Yes, well, I sincerely doubt he'd be happy to know we've become reliant on them to glean the status of troop moral.

Mothma

* * *

**Message sent at 0646 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

…As well as gleaning the status of Leia and Solo's relationship, eh?

Rieekan

* * *

**Message sent at 0646 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

That damn therapist and her client confidentiality.

Mothma

* * *

**Message sent at 0647 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

I hope that Solo stays, personally. That girl can't take another loss.

Rieekan

* * *

**Message sent at 0647 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

I wish you wouldn't encourage them, Carlist.

* * *

**Message sent at 0647 hours, Day 6, Month 2, Year 3044**

And I wish you would.

* * *

_

* * *

_

Journal of Princess Leia Organa

_7th Day, 2nd Month, 3044th Year_

_I have been instructed by my therapist to write in this again. _

_Even though I have absolutely nothing to say._

_To her, or anyone._

_I have no desire to write a letter to no one._

_But maybe this is not completely useless._

_Maybe, I should be expecting no one to write back._

_Well, no one, go ahead. Prove me wrong._

_-_

_Killjoy. _

* * *

_Journal of Princess Leia Organa_

_7th Day, 2nd Month, 3044th Year_

_Write about your day, she says. I find it interesting that no matter what you say to therapists they never get angry, never raise their voices. Or even their eyebrows. I don't think I've ever seen my therapist raise her eyebrows._

_I wonder if such a thing is natural._

_Well, my day. Alright._

_This morning, I woke up exactly five minutes before my chrono alarm went off – again. I'm seriously beginning to question the usefulness of having an alarm. I then dressed, and went down to Mess-A. It was still dark and no one was yet up. I ingested one glass of water and half of one of those mysterious looking round things. (Note to self, find out what said round things are.)_

_I then went to my customary terminal on the Floor, and did data schematics and checks. _

_I forgot to eat lunch._

_At exactly 1403 hours I was sent a message containing the information on a failed reconnaissance mission. Twelve dead._

_The shift changed at 2000 hours, and I returned to my chambers. I then wrote the previous entry in this journal, and promptly answered my comm. link to have my therapist instruct me to please write about my day and stop being so cynical. Subsequently, I wrote this._

_I believe you will find it decidedly un-cynical. _

* * *

**Message sent at 0651 hours, Day 10, Month 2, Year 3044**

Captain Solo,

The High Council requests that you take part in a reconnaissance mission, scouting the Hoth terrain. Commander Skywalker will accompany you. 0600 hours tomorrow, sharp.

Organa

* * *

**Message sent at 0652 hours, Day 10, Month 2, Year 3044**

Nice to know that I'm so important that I need a special Council request to go look at snow, Your Worshipfulness. I'm honoured.

Solo

* * *

**Message sent at 0652 hours, Day 10, Month 2, Year 3044**

I trust you will go on the mission then, Captain.

Organa

* * *

**Message sent at 0653 hours, Day 10, Month 2, Year 3044**

Oh, you can _trust_ that, Princess.

Solo

* * *

**Message sent at 0653 hours, Day 10, Month 2, Year 3044**

I shall relay your message to the Council then.

Organa

* * *

**Message sent at 0655 hours, Day 10, Month 2, Year 3044**

You do that, Your Highness. You do that.

Solo

* * *

**11th, Month 2, 3044**

Dear Diary,

I'm not rich or famous yet. And I've decided that stealing Airhead's identity isn't worth it. Like, the woman's so thick it's only a matter of time until she's killed in combat. I can wait.

No, the reason I'm writing again is that drama has once again throw itself straight into our poor, unsuspecting – and avalanche inclined – rebel haven. Honestly, drama couldn't have hit us harder if it had been fired from a turbo-launcher. One more direct hit like this and we may retain some serious damage. Gods forbid.

So, the Dream Three's kind of broken up. I mean, Solo and Organa won't even stay in the same room together (lost a hundred credits in the betting pool 'cause of them), and Skywalker's gone all moody. Word is he wants to be a Jedi, or something. So yesterday, I was sitting at my working terminal, and I was wondering, like, where was I going to get entertainment from now? Somehow, in the break up, Pip managed to keep all the friends – actually, I think he told them I was diseased or something, but anyway – so I was completely out of people to get drunk with. I considered going home to my parents, but then I realized that I would probably have to hide in the cellar from Imps for the rest of my life, and our cellar's always been a bit sketchy… especially after that kid puked up all that blue milk down there. And of course, leaving would be, like, desertion.

I was feeling a tad depressed.

So anyways, just as I was drafting my third suicide note (the first two were rejected because they mentioned Pip; I was not going to give that bastard the satisfaction of knowing that he, like, drove me to self harm), Solo swaggers, sidles, and all other sexy terms for moving that really don't do him justice, onto the Floor. Momentarily distracted from drafting My Last Words, I followed his – okay, his butt's – progress across the Floor.

So Solo stops beside Rieekan and says in this really loud voice that he is leaving, and then the two have this macho-man-goodbye-moment, the male equivalent of hugging and sobbing. I realize that I'm never going to enjoy watching his butt again, and am deciding how I should fit this into the suicide note when Solo turns to the Princess. (Oh, I realize dimly, now she can't look at his butt either.)

Not that this appears to faze her in the least.

'_So Your Highness, I guess this is it,_' he says to her. And she says,_ 'I guess so.' _

Nope, not in the least.

'_Well don't get all mushy on me,_' he says._ 'So long, Princess.'_

Then he walks out. She sits in her chair for half a time part before tearing after him, and we release a collective breath.

Unfortunately, ice walls do not aid the eavesdropper, so when the Princess walks back in we can only guess what the hell happened. I can't help feeling a little bit sorry for the girl. I mean, even though she's got everything she's now missing Han Solo's butt, which is an all important item in royal circles, I'm sure.

Anyways, the suicide note reads as follows:

_**Dear Whoever-The-Kreth-This-May-Concern**,_

_I have taken my own life. I simply couldn't go on like this. Really, you should be glad I didn't just defect. _

_Here is my will and stuff:_

_All my clothes and junk can be given out to needy children, or something._

…_Except for the panties – Han Solo can keep those._

_You have my permission to use my remains as base food._

_Just don't, like, eat my heart or anything, cause that be too damned weird._

_-_

I'm still working on it. I mean, is it really polite to swear at the person who finds you? It might be kinda traumatising to find a dead person. I think the one time in your life you really don't need to be sworn at is when you find a dead body. Actually, maybe I should provide a bag or something beside the note, you know, for them to throw-up in. That would be really considerate.

Then again, I might die one of those really pathetic deaths where no one notices until the smell creeps out into the corridor. What if the person who finds me will be the Alliance cleanup crew? In that case, maybe I should leave the swearing in.

But maybe I shouldn't off myself, maybe I should just wait to die in combat. An honourable death, or something like that. Besides, I have more to live for than Organa. I mean, I have a home to go back to when this thing ends.

Thaye

* * *

_Journal of Princess Leia Organa_

_11th Day, 2nd Month, 3044th Year_

_Old habits die hard, I guess. Despite my best efforts (involving burying this thing under a foot of snow) I can't seem to stop writing. I'll probably have to join a journal-a-holics help group._

_Wonderful. Now I'll have to have two therapists: one to help me deal with Alderaan, one to help me deal with the ways the other one helped me to deal. There go the remaining Alliance funds._

Han

_I guess we'll lose the war after all. You cannot win a war when all you money is going to therapeutic sessions for you figurehead. Oh well, at least I will be certifiably sane when Vader destroys the last remains of the Rebellion as we cower behind snow piles. But oops, Mon Mothma and the High Council had us destroy all the snow piles. There goes our last shelter._

He's leaving and

_Our ammo in the Rebellion's last moments will have to be ice shards and snowballs. But wait; we've probably eaten them all. _

I didn't even say goodbye properly

_I should alert Mon Mothma. We've been contributing to our own inevitable demise. How tragic._

_You know, ironically, if we had to evacuate Hoth right this second and I left behind this journal, it wouldn't help the Empire in the least. An Alliance leader's diary, without a single shred of valuable information in it. I feel as if I have failed somehow. _

I didn't say goodbye because that way he can't leave, but then I realize that I got the rule wrong; if your bring a precipitate-shield it never rains, if you **say** goodbye he won't leave, and it's too late now

_But Organas must never fail, said my father. Perhaps I should attach a list of invaluable information to this, so the Imperials can find us, so I can live up to my leadership status, so we can all die a little godsdamned faster. But I have to contact Luke first, ask him how the scouting mission went, apologise for recommending him for it. _

_So, sorry Imperials. No information._

I'm sorry Han

* * *

**

* * *

Missing Persons Log**

**Day 11, Month 2, Year 3044**

2107 hours: Commander Luke Skywalker reported lost

2213 hours: Captain Han Solo reported lost

* * *

**WATCH LOG**

**11 Day, Month 2, 3044 Year**

**2230 hours**

The shield doors were kept open for five time parts longer than normal under the request of Senator/Princess Leia Organa, who was awaiting the return of two missing officers.

Shield doors also retained some damage when the Wookiee Chewbacca hit the left panel as he was leaving with the Princess.

* * *

**Base Hospital: Patient Log  
**  
**Name of Patient:** Skywalker, Luke

**Injuries:** Severe frostbite, hypothermia

**Cause of Injuries:** Exposure to cold for long periods of time

* * *

**Falcon Ship Log**

**Day 15, Month 2, Year 3044**

**Kreth. Just when a guy wants to get out of a star system, stuff like this happens. Now the kid's holed up in bacta and Her Worship's just hangin' around with all this displaced maternal energy. Which would actually be kinda entertaining, if she were talking to me.**

**And now the damn Wook's going around spouting proverbs of love and crap every time we're visiting Luke, which I think the nurse can understand, 'cause she kept giving me these really weird looks… **

**And Her Highness just existing in the same room as me is causing all kinds of trouble. She's making me feel damn guilty, which is stupid, cause she's the one giving me the cold shoulder. **

**I was sitting in the chair next to Luke a couple days ago, and the Princess was fiddling with his covers and making those noises, the kind that you think a woman is incapable of until you stick her next to something fuzzy or someone ill, and I almost forgot that I was leaving. 'Cept almost isn't completely so I remembered.**

**And the other day I was cleaning out the Falcon of all of Luke's crap, when I opened the compartment that Her Worship had taken over with military precision during that one mission to Karor. And there were all these feminine things buried there, and some perfume, which I sprayed so now the whole damn 'fresher smells like Leia. **

**Chewie used to call all the stuff that got left over from flings 'artifacts' and he'd chuck 'em out the airlock. Problem is, Leia's stuff ain't from a fling or a relationship, so what the hell am I supposed to call it. Artifacts of a non-relationship?**

**And I don't think I'm going to chuck them out the airlock. **

**But I have to leave, and she isn't giving me a reason to stay. Probably for the best, you know, or else I might get stuck down with commitments or something. I'm leaving as soon as Junior crawls outta the bacta. **

* * *

_Journal of Princess Leia Organa_

_11th Day, 2nd Month, 3044th Year_

_He was leaving, but now Luke's critically ill so he **can't**, which makes me something, but not happy, because that would be unfair to Luke. And so I sit here half-hoping for Luke to get better, and half-hoping, hoping that he won't so Han and I can sit together at his bedside and I can pretend. But I shouldn't pretend such things, because the longer Han stays the longer Luke is sick, and I don't want Luke to be sick and I don't want Han to leave. So I remain in a constant state of almost-happiness that borders on despair and watch Han like one would watch a ghost, which is already gone._

* * *

**Message sent at 0828 hours, Day 16, Month 2, Year 3044**

He's leaving now, Supreme Commander. I would expect you to be jumping for joy.

Rieekan

* * *

**Message sent at 0828 hours, Day 16, Month 2, Year 3044**

I'm too old to jump, Carlist.

* * *

**Message sent at 0828 hours, Day 16, Month 2, Year 3044**

And Leia was too young, right?

* * *

**Message sent at 0829 hours, Day 16, Month 2, Year 3044**

Yes, Carlist.

* * *

**Message sent at 0829 hours, Day 16, Month 2, Year 3044**

And perhaps now she can concentrate on your war. Which she isn't too young for, eh Mon?

* * *

**Message sent at 0829 hours, Day 16, Month 2, Year 3044**

I'm not holding him at gunpoint and forcing him to leave, Carlist.

* * *

**Message sent at 0829 hours, Day 16, Month 2, Year 3044**

You're right. I'm sorry, Mon, but I really didn't think he would. I thought that she was enough to keep him.

* * *

**Message sent at 0830 hours, Day 16, Month 2, Year 3044**

To tell truth, Carlist, so did I.

* * *

**Well?**


	17. There's Always an Evacuation

**Hi there people! Okay, we've hit ESB. (Well, we did last chapter, but now we've hit, er, more of it.) Anyways, the trip Bespin is up next, so… Was there sex on Bespin? Keep in mind this isn't going to go above R, but still. Thoughts? **

**Okay, the Janson/Mothma thing. Well, okay, I had no idea I was doing it, but I went back and read the thing over and well… now I'm in love with them. I tried to keep this chapter from making that too obvious, but they might have slipped in. Oh well. **

**Just so you know, I kept Luke in the bacta for a while. A few days. **

**Anyways, I would like to thank the reviewers. I love you all to pieces. **

**

* * *

**

**KnightedRogue: **Hiya you. I assure you, my writer's block fairy is hiding… somewhere. She seems to avoid all my attempts at torching her. Sigh

I'm glad you like Thaye. I was a touch worried at bringing her back. And I do apologise for pairing Wes off with Mothma in Assortements. I know how you loved him… :)

Honestly KR, your reviews are going straight to my head. I can no longer fit into any of my hats. (Probably a blessing is disguise – those things are ugly. Although, I may have to find a way to jam my head into my old Leafs cap now that the NHL is back! Woohoo! Oh, its fun to be Canadian.)

Sorry for the rambling.

Again, thank you so much for all you kind words. And, well… you already know how important you are.

**LL **

**Highnessness: **Thank you!

**Vantrika: **Thank you for the lovely review.

**Peach: **Thank you!

**cookiemunster: **'only small mammals and geese could make sense of…' Dies laughing Oh, that cheered me up.

**Gilraen Luinwe: **Thank you! Yes, Edgew was… I honestly don't know where it came from.

**Kel: **Thank you so much. Bespin is going to be so much fun.

**PineappleOrchid: **Thank you!

**DarthShanni: **Thank you! Glad you like it.

**fallingfromelysium: **Thank you!

**King00Nayr: **Thank you for the review. I'm glad you like it and that you think I stay in character. :) I'll try to keep it up.

**Mandi-Solo: **Thank you! And no, this isn't the end. It shall go on.

**Allie: **Thank you! So glad you like it!

**Lifedream101: **Thank you!

**Cataracta: **Glad you like it.

**Bail's Other Daughter: **I will continue into ROTJ.

**Jedi Knight Revan: **Thank you!

**Ieyre: **I love the kiss too.

**tinglymonkee: **Seth Cohen… sigh. Thanks for the review.

**Liv: **Glad you like it. Don't worry about not reviewing before. I'm just happy you did now!

**LisaQT3: **Meg Cabot? Never read anything by her, I don't think… Glad you like it!

**arliddian: **Never heard of the book Finding Cassie Crazy. I'm really glad you like this, though, and thanks for the lovely review.

**deathstarcakewalk: **First off; adore your name! And thank you!

**prash: **Hey kiddo. Hope your life is going alright. Actually, I have to call you soon…

**tish: **Thank you!

**Amaunetx: **Thank you! I hope this update was faster.

**Mara look-a-like: **I'm back! Thank you!

**Talyn: **I wrote more!

**Augusta**Yes, we are getting somewhere.

**Solo Shodan: **Laughs That was funny.

**Kalena: **Thank you!

**marie lebeau: **You noticed Janson/Mothma too? I really didn't intend to do it, but now am hopelessly hooked on them.

**Emerald Green Queen: **Thank you for the lovely review! And, yes, if the Rebellion wasn't so strapped for soldiers then I'm sure Wes wouldn't have lasted a week. I hope this update was, er, faster for you.

**Saber Girls: **Hey there! Of course you can reference this (sorry I didn't get back to you about that sooner – I missed this somehow. Sigh I need to get an email that works.) I'd be really flattered if you used stuff from this in WMMTM. God that fic is hilarious…

Wait a second, I'm an esteemed? Wow. I actually don't know what to do with that...

**HanSolosGal: **Glad you like it. (And I am proud that I managed to post this chapter before you started to threaten. Aren't you proud of me?)

**Calgary**Yes, I love Wes/Mon too. Thank you so much for the kind review.

**EveYasha: **I read _Of Losing_ and reviewed too, I think… It was lovely. Thanks for the review.

**MatrixSailorStarKnightZ: **Thank you!

**DarthLady14: **Thank you!

**Snail-sama: **Here's more.

**Lirenel: **Thank you!

**SuperBlonde: **Thank you!

**Amanda: **Oh, in my own personal cannon Leia was raped on the Death Star. It might come up later…

**Sparkzi: **Thank you!

**RowensR: **Hobbie lives! I was mistaken, apparently he doesn't die after… Anyways, thank you!

**Starrunner: **Thank you!

**Culf: **Thank you!

**ProfessorSpork: **Thank you! '_I wish I had my own personal Rogue Squadron._' Don't we all?

**Viki and Teazer: **Glad you like this. Thanks for the nice review.

**Saber Girl Amidaala: **Thanks so much. Glad you enjoyed it.

**Vivid Butterfly: **Thank you! You want to join Wes's fan club? Well come on down.

**Cooking Spray: **I love you and your reviews. They are so lovely. You continue to make my week. And yes, we have the infamous Luke and Leia kiss in this… The Interactive Guide reminds you of your school counsellor? Weird…

I adore your one shots. They were both lovely. I'm flattered that this story helped inspire even a sentence of them.

**owphoenix: **Thank you!

**Dovasary: **I love writing Wes and co. the best. I guess it shows. I will indeed try to continue on through the rest of the movies. Thank you!

**Aguila: **So glad you like it. Thank you!

**wtrfotm64: **Thank you!

**Zazzie: **I'll really have to take a look a The Year Of Secret Assignments, then. Thank you!

**TheBeautifulPadmeAmidala: **Not as funny, you say? Well, we are in ESB now when everything gets all angsty. Glad you like it anyways!

**Angel of Fire SG1: **Thank you!

**Faire Cuthalion: **ESB is so fun to write. They hate each other so much… I'm glad its going well with the translations, and that your friends are enjoying it. You can go ahead and upload it if you so choose.

**Bittersweetbloodbaby: **You blew off studying? I'm flattered, though feeling slightly guilty.

**Aladailey: **I updated quickly… well, relatively quickly. Glad you like it.

**LauraAnu: **Glad you like the Rogues. They're so much fun to write.

**Clare: **I promise not to drop off the face of the earth ever again. In fact, I've taken the precaution of attaching myself to it by the means of a bungee cord.

**Dude Wheres My Cheese: **Ah yes, the infamous incestuous kiss. Its here, in this chapter… Glad you like it.

**Saber Girl Jaina: **Thank you! And I have to say again: I love _What My Mother Taught Me. _

**TheDaughterOfKings: **Glad that you liked it.

**vegemite: **Glad you liked it. And yes, Wedge is as strange as the other, no matter how much he tries to deny it.

**Pip: **Glad this cheered you up. Exams suck.

**Silindro: **_Thank_ you! That was a wonderful review to read. Really boosted my ego. I'll have to go check out some of your stuff.

**Dana Sheilds: **Yes, Leia's puzzling to therapist's everywhere. Glad you like Thaye. Thanks for the lovely review!

**cookiemunster: **I've inspired you to dance! Huzzah! Yes, Han and Leia are so much fun when they hate each other. Thaye should meet Han, you say? Interesting…

**levisrictusias: **Thank you!

**SailorLeia: **Hi there! How're you doing? I will keep going through the movies, promise. I'm so glad you like it, SL. Your reviews are always such a pleasure. Always wonderful to hear from ya.

**Ophelia Eternal: **A sex scene from both their viewpoints? Ah… I'll be writing nothing rated R (or whatever this place is calling it now). But you love me enough to stick with this anyways, right? Or… not. I'm glad you like it.

**Darlene: **Thank you!

**Tinuviel Undomiel: **Hey there you. I hope the timing for the Battle of Hoth works for you and NA. I glad you liked it.

**GreatOne: **I read J-Girl too. Wow, she was gone a _long_ time, wasn't she? Makes my absence look short. :) I was so happy to see her back. Thanks for the nice review.

**Talonah: **Thank you!

**MistyRiver: **I'm back! Glad you like it.

**mirielle: **Thank you! I touched on the battle of Hoth here, but not too much. I couldn't find an excuse for anyone to message during it. Glad you liked.

**Sweetdeath04: **Hey there! I updated in less than six months… which is good, yes?

**Jillie Rose: **Thank you so much for your kind reviews. (I love Lamentations sooo much. You have no idea how happy I was when I found that story.) I updated, er, sooner than last time at least…

**i-hate-sox: **Thank you. I hope the wait for this update was a bit better.

**stoictimer: **Thank you!

**Hold-outTrout: **Glad you like Mon Mothma. She's really grown on me since I started writing this.

**QueenOfAces: **Thank you so much. I'm flattered you like this.

**YoshimiWolfspaw: **Yes… sorry about the wait. Glad you like it.

**Webogirl: **Hey there m'dear! How're you doing? I make no promises but I will try to update faster in the future…

**And we're on to the story. Enjoy, or something to that effect. **

**

* * *

**

**Message sent at 0600 hours, Day 4, Month 3, Year 3044**

ATTENTION REBELS:

We need more volunteers to do routine sweeps. The soldiers that were originally responsible for holding down this job have been… unavoidably detained.

So sign up and contribute to the war effort!

The High Council

* * *

**Message sent at 0815 hours, Day 4, Month 3, Year 3044**

Wow, it seems like ages since we got a good ol' fashioned Council message. Nice to know the brass is still thinking of us.

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0815 hours, Day 4, Month 3, Year 3044**

Uh… Wes?

Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 0816 hours, Day 4, Month 3, Year 3044**

Your point please, Janson.

Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 0816 hours, Day 4, Month 3, Year 3044**

Ah yes, my point, the all elusive point… Fine: the point.

Okay, let's regroup here. We've got Luke still in bacta, we've got Solo and the Princess hovering around and not talking to each other. Here's the point, gentlemen; I'd say we've got a problem.

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0817 hours, Day 4, Month 3, Year 3044**

So? This time it isn't _our_ fault. …At least, not completely.

Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 0817 hours, Day 4, Month 3, Year 3044**

Hobs, Hobs, Hobs. Just because it's not our mess doesn't mean we don't fix it. Childhood taught me this, if nothing else.

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0817 hours, Day 4, Month 3, Year 3044**

Wes boy, ten bucks says when you were a child it was always your mess.

Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 0818 hours, Day 4, Month 3, Year 3044**

Oh no. No way, Wes. We are not doing anything else to them; I'm putting my foot down.

Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 0818 hours, Day 4, Month 3, Year 3044**

That's good Wedge. I'd hate to think of you having to balance on one leg the whole day.

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0819 hours, Day 4, Month 3, Year 3044**

Oh, come on guys. They _need _us!

Where's your sense of adventure?

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0819 hours, Day 4, Month 3, Year 3044**

I must have misplaced it. Maybe we'll find it in the snow somewhere, alongside _your common sense! _

Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 0820 hours, Day 4, Month 3, Year 3044**

He never had common sense to begin with.

Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 0821 hours, Day 4, Month 3, Year 3044**

I'm not suggesting we do anything that directly impacts Solo and the Princess. I'm thinking something on a more… large scale.

Come on people; I've seen more moral in a tomb. This place needs some serious humour. Or sex.

But, you know, we can only provide so much.

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0821 hours, Day 4, Month 3, Year 3044**

Man, Wesy, you sure are asking a lot here… okay, what're we gonna do?

Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 0822 hours, Day 4, Month 3, Year 3044**

'Atta boy, Hobs. See, Antilles; two against one. Clearly you are outnumbered.

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0822 hours, Day 4, Month 3, Year 3044**

Traitor.

Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 0823 hours, Day 4, Month 3, Year 3044**

Dude, sorry, but I think I'm getting withdrawal symptoms.

Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 0824 hours, Day 4, Month 3, Year 3044**

You're out-numbed, Antilles. Roll over gracefully like a man.

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0824 hours, Day 4, Month 3, Year 3044**

… I'm not even going to bother pointing out the things wrong with that sentence.

Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 0824 hours, Day 4, Month 3, Year 3044**

Well that's good. It saves time.

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0825 hours, Day 4, Month 3, Year 3044**

You know, right now would be the time when Lukie stumbled into the conversation.

Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 0826 hours, Day 4, Month 3, Year 3044**

And it would take us at least five messages to get him caught up.

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0826 hours, Day 4, Month 3, Year 3044**

You know, he'd take my side.

Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 0827 hours, Day 4, Month 3, Year 3044**

Okay, missing him a little less now.

Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 0828 hours, Day 4, Month 3, Year 3044**

…You reckon he was wearing his non-issue socks when they brought him in?

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0828 hours, Day 4, Month 3, Year 3044**

Wes!

Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 0829 hours, Day 4, Month 3, Year 3044**

What?

Okay. A moment of silence for our frozen comrade.

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0831 hours, Day 4, Month 3, Year 3044**

Alrighty, moments up!

Now, as it is our duty as Resident Pranksters to cheer up base in its time of need…

I have…. A Plan.

(Damn these messages. They don't allow for dramatic pauses.)

Janson

* * *

Sign-Up Sheet For Routine Sweeps

Janson, Antilles, Hobbie: Requesting Graveyard Shift

* * *

**Message sent at 0103 hours, Day 5, Month 3, Year 3044**

ATTENTION WEARY REBELS:

This is Wes Janson and the Rogue Squadron. Although we apologise for waking you at such an obscenely early hour, we simply must request that you all come outside. We have a little treat for you.

Your Rogue Squadron (as if anyone else would want us)

P.S. Wes Janson would like to remind you all to place bets on the Princess and the Pirate (now fondly known as P and P). Come on people, show some faith, money… ice chips. Whatever.

* * *

**Message sent at 0112 hours, Day 5, Month 3, Year 3044**

Your Worship, I think you better go look outside.

Solo

* * *

**Message sent at 0112 hours, Day 5, Month 3, Year 3044**

Why, pray tell, are you messaging me in the middle of the night?

Organa

* * *

**Message sent at 0113 hours, Day 5, Month 3, Year 3044**

Well, the Rogue Squadron… Ah hell, just go outside, Princess. It might cheer you up.

Solo

* * *

**Message sent at 0113 hours, Day 5, Month 3, Year 3044**

Who's to say that I need any cheering, Captain?

Organa

* * *

**Message sent at 0114 hours, Day 5, Month 3, Year 3044**

I never betray my sources, Your Highness.

Solo

* * *

**Message sent at 0114 hours, Day 5, Month 3, Year 3044**

I can only assure you that you have been misinformed then.

Organa

* * *

**Message sent at 0114 hours, Day 5, Month 3, Year 3044**

Look Princess, for once don't overanalyze - just this one time - and go outside. Gods you're aggravating.

Solo

* * *

**Message sent at 0114 hours, Day 5, Month 3, Year 3044**

Well, why do you even bother talking to me, if it seems to aggravate you _so much_?

Organa

* * *

**Message sent at 0115 hours, Day 5, Month 3, Year 3044**

I don't know, Your Highness, you tell me.

Solo

* * *

**Message sent at 0115 hours, Day 5, Month 3, Year 3044**

I assure you I haven't the faintest idea, Captain.

Organa

* * *

**Message sent at 0115 hours, Day 5, Month 3, Year 3044**

Yes you do.

Solo

* * *

Message sent at 0132 hours, Day 5, Month 3, Year 3044

Are you awake, Supreme Commander?

Dodonna

* * *

**Message sent at 0132 hours, Day 5, Month 3, Year 3044**

Unless, **a**: we're being invaded, or **b**: Darth Vader is in your room right now playing footsie with you, then no.

Mothma

* * *

**Message sent at 0132 hours, Day 5, Month 3, Year 3044**

Neither. But there is a large target on painted on the base roof.

Dodonna

* * *

**Message sent at 0132 hours, Day 5, Month 3, Year 3044**

What.

* * *

**Message sent at 0132 hours, Day 5, Month 3, Year 3044**

Well, Mon, there seems to be a large target painted on the base roof.

Dodonna

* * *

**Meeting Transcript: On the Subject of Why Is There a Large Target Painted on the Base Roof?**

Wes Janson here, I am again the typist. How I let myself get suckered into these things, I don't know.

**Mon Mothma: **I was under the impression that your sick little mind enjoyed it.

Someone definitely hasn't had her cafe yet - but I'm not naming names.

So, here we all are at 0200 hours on Day 26, Month 2. Those present are Supreme Commander Mon Mothma (sporting a robe and mittens), General Rieekan (he, at least, had the presence of mind to dress before coming down here), Senator/Princess Leia Organa (damn, she looks good in that nightgown), Captain Han Solo (bet you anything he's just here because he was following that nightgown, blindly), and members of the Rogue Squadron (Hobbie and Antilles). They're all just milling around, waiting for the meeting to commence- Oh, and here comes Dodonna… and I do believe, yes, I think those are fluffy slippers that he is-

**Mon Mothma: **Janson, _General_ Dodonna does not have any slippers on.

**Janson: …**I fail to see your point.

**Mon Mothma (angrily): **Janson, you- you can't simply make up things for the record!

**Janson: **Oh. (A Pause) You can't?

**Mon Mothma: **

**Janson:** …

**Mon Mothma:**

**Janson: **…

**Janson: **Ma'am? Thoughts?

**Mon Mothma: **You know what, Janson, I'm tired. Imagine my yelling at you.

**Janson: **Okay… So, pink in the face yelling, red in the face yelling, or that strange purple colour Dodonna sometimes gets?

**Mon Mothma: **I don't know- pick one!

**Janson: **I like… Pink! Now, where are you standing during this imaginary yelling? What exactly is our proximity?

**Mon Mothma (turning a shade of pink): **JANSON!

**Janson: **I guess I don't have to imagine the yelling now, do I?

**Mon Mothma (through clenched teeth): **Type. Up. The. Summary.

Someone needs to get this woman some cafe. And Dodonna too. Maybe it'll thaw out the stick that seems permanently frozen up his-

**Mon Mothma (the term 'ready to spit fire' comes to mind): **JANSON!

**Dodonna (all the noise seems to have caught his attention): **Why is _he _here?

**Janson (helpfully): **I'm the typist.

All have turned to look at the unfolding drama.

**The Nightgown (otherwise known as Leia Organa): **Isn't it a little counterproductive to have him typing up his own hearing?

This seems to have stunned everyone into silence. This typist would like to note for the record that logic often seems to have this affect on the brass.

The Supreme Commander, General Dodonna, and General Rieekan move off in a corner to discuss this. (The unexpected complication of logic seems to have put a little snag in the meeting.) As this is taking place, pilots Antilles and Hobbie of the Rogue Squadron move to sit beside this typist.

**Antilles (dare I say, sarcastically?): **Good job, Wes. Just wonderful.

**Hobbie: **Boy, we are in such poodoo.

**Janson: **Relax. I've got this committee in my back pocket.

**Hobbie: **What, are you sleeping with Dodonna now?

As this conversation is ongoing, the Princess Leia Organa and Captain Han Solo are carrying out one of their own in heated whispers.

**Hobbie: **Heated whispers? Dude, are you writing a romance here?

**Janson: **Shut-up. I'm trying to type what they're saying.

Their conversation (in heated whispers):

**Organa: …**do you mean, I'm trying to keep you here?

**Solo: **Well, I thought that it was pretty obvious.

**Organa: **How dare you institute such a thing-

**Solo: **Yeah, well you seemed to like it when I 'institutedsuch a thing' back on Ord Mantell.

**Organa: **You- you-

**Mon Mothma (very loudly from 'The Corner'): **I don't care, Jan! He's typing up the meeting, godsdamn it! Unless you're volunteering to do it yourself…

**Dodonna (meekly): **No.

**Mon Mothma: **Good. That's settled then.

Always fun to see her shout at someone else. But really; could she have worse timing?

The three return from the corner and seat themselves around the meeting table. Solo and Organa remain standing near the back of the room. Sans heated whispers.

**Mon Mothma (moves to read over the typists shoulder): **Have you typed up the summary yet?

**Janson: **No.

**Mon Mothma: **(You know, she really does the silent glaring thing very well.)

We are gathered here to deal with the rather unfortunate occurrence of a target appearing on the top of the base's roof. The concern has been raised (loudly) that Imperial scouts might spot it, be unable to believe their good luck, and attack the base. (Here the typist would like to point out that the target has been completed washed away by the snow now, and that all this fuss is simply usle-

**Mon Mothma (again monitoring what this typist is, er, typing): **Would you please refrain from pointing things out in the future.

**Janson: **Yes, ma'am.

This prank was clearly a jab at the Imps; it obviously meant to poke fun at the fact that the Imps couldn't find us even with a target, and boost morale. However, as the Council has no sense of irony, members of the Rogue Squadron (Janson, Antilles, Hobbie) have been accused, on only circumstantial evidence, might I add-

**Mon Mothma (angrily): **Janson, we don't care about your opinion!

**Janson: **Well, I'm hurt, ma'am. To think that my opinion matters not at all is just crushing-

**Mon Mothma (irately – new adjective!): **Janson, so help me, _I'm _going to crush something very soon, and it's not going to be your ego.

The typist wonders if this is a hint of some sort.

**Mon Mothma (there simply aren't words): **Do you value your life, Janson?

The typist chooses not to answer this.

**Mon Mothma: **Very wise of him.

**Janson: **Why thank you.

The Rogue Squadron has been assembled for this meeting, during which the High Council will decide their punishment.

**Hobbie (whispering): **I don't think you're helping our cause.

**Janson: **Nonsense. It's all part of the plan.

During this exchange, the Supreme Commander is standing-

**Mon Mothma: **Alright. I think we are all in complete agreement that these three are guilty. (That was a bit harsh) Now all that is left to determine is how we shall punish them.

**Dodonna (pompously): **Clearly this time they have gone over the line. They have put our base in danger, the very foundation of the Rebellion-

**Antilles: **Umm…excuse me.

**Dodonna (looking a bit nonplussed): **Yes?

**Antilles: **Well, can we speak in our defence?

Dodonna looks to Mon Mothma. She raises her eyebrows.

**Mon Mothma (covering her face with her hands): **I suppose so.

**Antilles: **Well… we did do research. You actually can't see the target from Hoth's atmosphere.

**Hobbie: **So none of those damn imps – sorry ma'am – so no Imperials could see it had they been doing a sweep.

**Dodonna (arrogantly): **You still put this base in undue amounts of danger. As I said before (he peers over the typist shoulder to look at the record) '…you have put the very foundation of the rebellion in danger.' (He pauses) Hey, you can't write that! I am _not_ speaking arrogantly!

**Mon Mothma: **Problem, Jan?

**Dodonna (whining): **He's putting- why you little- I am not whining! Supreme Commander, I must protest; he's putting adjectives into the record.

**Mon Mothma (tiredly): **Yes. He tends to do that Jan.

**Dodonna: **Just then! -he said you spoke 'tiredly'.

**Mon Mothma (peering over the typist's shoulder): **So he did.

**Dodonna (furiously): **And… look there! He wrote that I'm speaking 'furiously.'

**Mon Mothma (raising an eyebrow): **I wouldn't take it personally, Jan.

Actually, the typist believes that he should take it personally. The typist meant it quite personally-

**Mon Mothma (loudly): **Janson! Have you ever heard the expression "if you can't say anything nice, shut up"?

**Antilles: **Well, actually, ma'am, I'm not sure that's how it goes-

**Mon Mothma (menacingly): **Don't contradict me and you just might live through this war.

**Janson: **Well, in truth, pilots often have the highest death rate in wars. We should expect to live through 3.1 battles. We're preparing ourselves and would appreciate it if you kept your positive, but unformed, comments to yourself.

**Mon Mothma: **(Well, actually, she just threw up her hands, and lost a mitten.)

**Janson: **You lost a mitten, ma'am.

The Supreme Commander glares all kinds of death at this typist, and takes her mitten back from him.

**Janson: **You're welcome, ma'am.

**Mon Mothma (furiously is indeed an understatement): **JANSON-

**Rieekan (he really seems to confine himself to refined, monosyllabic words, doesn't he?): **Ahem.

**Mon Mothma (putting the mitten back on, looking embarrassed): **Oh for Gods' sakes… Janson, Antilles, and Hobbie will be subject to mess-duty for a standard month. That is all.

**Rieekan (forsaking the monosyllabic pattern): **Now, couldn't we have simply done that over comm. link?

All go silent. Except for the Supreme Commander, who is grinding her teeth. Oh- and Solo and Organa, who are arguing in the back. Yes, in heated whispers.

**Organa: **What do you mean I haven't given you any good reasons to stay? I believe I have clearly said, time and time again, that the Alliance benefits from your leadership and piloting skills.

**Solo: **And that's such a great reason to stay, eh Princess? Yeah, I'd risk my life for that.

**Organa (in exasperation): **Well, what would you risk you life for?

**Solo: **

**Organa: **Money? We can't afford your prices, Solo. You know we can't…

**Solo: **You know Your Worship, you need to stop making snap judgments of people.

**Organa: **Captain, I've known you for two years. Any judgments I've made are based on numerous facts, you can be sure of that.

**Solo: **Yeah right, Your Highnessess. If you would just get off your damn pedestal for one second and get to know people, maybe you wouldn't always have to use stereotypes to come up with an opinion-

**Mon Mothma (interjecting – quite loudly): **Would you two please have your lovers tiff somewhere else!

Princess/Senator Leia Organa storms out of the room-

**Hobbie: **Storms?

-leaving Captain Solo looking half triumphant, half dejected.

**Rieekan (softly): **Solo, when are you going to tell her that we no longer pay you for your missions?

Solo leaves the question hanging, and walks out of the room. Supreme Commander Mon Mothma and General Rieekan exchange a look. Supreme Commander Mon Mothma sighs and picks at the fabric of her mitten. General Dodonna looks a bit confused (although this is nothing out of the ordinary), and-

**Mon Mothma (wearily): **Wes, you can stop typing now.

**Janson: **Oh.

End Transcript.

* * *

Message sent at 2317 hours, Day 9, Month 3, Year 3044

Guys, what if Leia doesn't really like Han?

Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 2317 hours, Day 9, Month 3, Year 3044**

Luke, it's too late for crazy talk. The medic food is screwing with your brain.

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 2317 hours, Day 9, Month 3, Year 3044**

I hate to say this, Luke, but: you're having doubts _now_?

Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 2317 hours, Day 9, Month 3, Year 3044**

What's goin' on?

Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 2318 hours, Day 9, Month 3, Year 3044**

No really. Listen to me – she kissed me today.

Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 2319 hours, Day 9, Month 3, Year 3044**

Damn boy, you woke me up for that? Go back to sleep. Maybe you'll have the dream again.

Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 2319 hours, Day 9, Month 3, Year 3044**

It wasn't a dream, it really happened! You can even ask Han if you don't believe me.

Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 2320 hours, Day 9, Month 3, Year 3044**

Hang on. Han was there?

Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 2320 hours, Day 9, Month 3, Year 3044**

Wow, she's really going to new and further lengths to make him jealous, isn't she? Maybe if we hang around her long enough she'll kiss us too!

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 2320 hours, Day 9, Month 3, Year 3044**

How come I'm never around when this woman uses people like doormats for her own purposes?

Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 2320 hours, Day 9, Month 3, Year 3044**

Bad luck man. The universe hates us.

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 2321 hours, Day 9, Month 3, Year 3044**

No. I think she's over him.

Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 2322 hours, Day 9, Month 3, Year 3044**

Lukie boy, she's in love with him. She's trying to make him jealous. She would have kissed Threepio if he was closer.

Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 2322 hours, Day 9, Month 3, Year 3044**

What do you know? You don't even know her. You haven't even _talked_ to her.

Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 2322 hours, Day 9, Month 3, Year 3044**

Actually, she has talked to me. Well, she was really instructing all the pilots during a briefing, but hey – it's something.

Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 2323 hours, Day 9, Month 3, Year 3044**

Luke, she told you she loved him.

Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 2324 hours, Day 9, Month 3, Year 3044**

I don't care. That was a long time ago, almost a year. She might have changed her mind by now.

Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 2325 hours, Day 9, Month 3, Year 3044**

Look, we've been trying to set them up for two years. We'd have noticed if she was over him. You would have noticed something. She would have told you, like: 'Good morning, pass the blue milk, I think I'll stop loving Han now.' (Or words to that affect.)

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 2325 hours, Day 9, Month 3, Year 3044**

Han doesn't even deserve her. How do we know he even loves her?

Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 2326 hours, Day 9, Month 3, Year 3044**

Okay, now you're grasping at straws. Clearly, it is written in the stars. Go outside and look to the left of that big snow mountain thingy. Second star on the right, and if you look really closely you can see "Han loves Leia."

Come on Luke, snap outta it!

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 2328 hours, Day 9, Month 3, Year 3044**

Look, I don't care. I'm not going to sit around and listen to you.

Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 2330 hours, Day 9, Month 3, Year 3044**

Somehow I sense that our group is down to three.

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 2331 hours, Day 9, Month 3, Year 3044**

You'll be a jedi yet, Janson.

Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 2331 hours, Day 9, Month 3, Year 3044**

You two could have been a little more sensitive, you know. Why'd you have to go telling him that Leia'd have kissed Threepio, Hobbie?

Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 2332 hours, Day 9, Month 3, Year 3044**

Well, for some reason he didn't seem to be getting the message from your _silences_.

Hobs

* * *

Message sent at 2332 hours, Day 9, Month 3, Year 3044

At least my silence was somewhat sympathetic.

Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 2333 hours, Day 9, Month 3, Year 3044**

How can a silence be sympathetic? It's a _silence._

Congratulations, Wesy. You've finally managed to turn the base into something out of a cheesy holo-film. All we need now is a dance number.

Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 2334 hours, Day 9, Month 3, Year 3044**

My life's goal is realized.

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 2335hours, Day 9, Month 3, Year 3044**

Poor Luke.

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 2335 hours, Day 9, Month 3, Year 3044**

Yeah.

* * *

**Message sent at 2335 hours, Day 9, Month 3, Year 3044**

Yeah.

* * *

**Falcon Ship Log**

**Day 10, Month 3, Year 3044**

**Her Highness can kiss whoever she krethin' likes. See if I care. Stang. If she'd just ask me to sta-**

**But whatever. I'm gonna leave just as soon as I get clearance.**

**I'd kinda like to think she was keeping me around on purpose. If I thought about that.**

* * *

_Journal of Princess Leia Organa_

_10th Day, 3rd Month, 3044th Year_

_Luke seems to be recovering rather nicely. He's out of the bacta at last. I told him about the Rogue Squadron's target, which was a bit amusing, although altogether inappropriate. I also gave him some of the sweet substance they were handing out, which we both tasted and concluded it had alcoholic components. And then Han came in and made a big scene in front of Luke, put his arm around me… Never mind._

_General Dodonna is now trying to convince Mon Mothma that we don't need a Rogue Squadron. He seems to think they deserve a dishonourable discharge. But Mon Mothma reminds him that we're not technically an official military unit and therefore can't discharge people, and plus if we discharge our volunteers (of which there are few) then we may eventually run out oh no!_

_And I kissed Luke._

_Today. I kissed him today. This morning. _

_I don't know _what _I was thinking._

_My therapist was ecstatic to have something romance related to talk about in today's session. (Screw relaxing techniques Leia; did you give him the tongue?)_

_Her: So, was this in any way because Han was there?_

_Me: No._

_Her: Did he goad you to the point where you had to find a way to make him jealous?_

_Me: No._

_Her: Were you in any way trying to make him jealous?_

_Me: No._

_Her: So, he's free then, is he?_

_Me: …Is there even pay left to dock at this point?_

* * *

Base Hospital: Patient Log

0600 hours, Day 11, Month 3: Skywalker, Luke discharged.

* * *

**Message sent at 0716 hours, Day 11, Month 3, Year 3044**

Hey Leia. Your therapist gave this to me, she said it was from a session only a month after you met me and that I should read it. Is that even legal?

Anyways, I think you should read it too, just for old time's sake.

Love,

Luke

_16th Day, 4th Month, 3042nd Year_

_Captain Solo,_

_Hello. You must be fairly shocked to be receiving a letter from me. Not as shocked, let me assure you, as I._

_My therapist decided, for reasons unknown to me, that it would be therapeutic to write to you. A letter that I would never send, of course. It is not good for business if I kill myself out of shame, I suppose. _

_I see no purpose in writing such a letter, but, as my therapist has informed me countless times, I do not have a licence to practise therapy and my opinions on mental health matter not. So. A letter to you._

_I suppose I should start off by thanking you for helping save my life, even if you didn't have a plan. Thank you. I apologise for the lack of verbal thanks; I've never been good at gratitude. _

_I was planning to try and retain some dignity here, but I'm not sure that's the purpose of this. Oh well._

_My therapist told me that I should tell you about Alderaan. So (thank goodness I'm not sending this letter) here I go._

_I am going to tell you the story of my first love letter._

_You must understand, before I begin, that I was a very shy child. The news is no doubt shocking to you. But I was shy; I disliked talking to people that were not well known to me. _

_I was enrolled in a school, the name is not important, until the age of ten. Then I was taken to be taught by a series of governesses and the like. This story takes place when I was five years old._

_Picture, if you will, me at age five. I was, as you may imagine, a slip of a thing. I could, and still can, sit on my hair when it was down. I was missing one of my front teeth (one of the greatest achievements of my childhood). I might have been cute. I'm not sure. When you are a child you never consider the fact that you could be cute. I never felt cute._

_We were dismissed every day for a brief playtime outside. One day I came back from playtime and in the middle of my desk there was a slip of paper with a single pink heart on it. I turned it over and there was a message on the back. It read, quite simply and with correct spelling, 'I love you.'_

_Why did I tell you that story? It's from so far back that I can't remember the faces of my classmates. This way, I won't wonder if they were on planet when Alderaan was destroyed._

_I just read this over. Ironically, it reads a bit like a love letter. _

_Aspith (my therapist) is telling me to tell you more about Alderaan, the first memory that pops into my head. Here I go._

_When I was around seventeen, one of my good friends was dating an older guy. He had a little boy from a past marriage. _

_Once, he and the boy were play fighting when we were out on a walk. The boy was crying to us for help. I turned to my friend and told her it sounded like he needed her. She said she was waiting for her cue. Then the little boy squealed, 'Sweetheart, come help me!' That's my cue, my friend said and ran to join the fray. _

_-_

_I should probably tell you that a have a bit of a crush on you. Probably. I've only known you for a short time. You say you'll leave... If I was brave, maybe I would ask you to stay. _

_But who am I kidding; asking you to stay is not brave. It is cowardly. Or maybe it is brave, admitting that I want you to._

_I'm neither, however. Brave or cowardly. I exist in a kind of limbo that is called pride: too afraid to do the things that require true bravery, lest they be labelled as cowardice. _

_Does that make any sense?_

_Oh shut up Leia. This is absolutely ridiculous. The universe will not end if you leave, and you aren't exactly the one pilot keeping us from losing the war. We were losing fine without you. _

_No one is dying, and by gods, it is not a tragedy until someone dies. This is completely stupid. I won't wake up one morning, and suddenly require your presence to live, like oxygen or water. I want you, I like the idea of you. I don't need you._

_The very idea is ridiculous. _

_My therapist is demanding another memory. Not of Alderaan._

_Last week, when you crashed that test-fighter you were taken to the base hospital. I went to visit and the droid on duty told me you were leaving (without a discharge). _

'_I don't think he's quite left yet, Your Highness. You can go see, if you wish. You could ask Captain Solo to wait, at least until he is properly discharged. He might listen to you.'_

_I didn't move. A little voice in the back of my head said 'You could ask him to wait. You could.'_

_-_

_I like it when you call me Sweetheart. It's a nice cue to have._

_Leia_

_P.S. Everybody lies._

* * *

**Message sent at 1046 hours, Day 11, Month 3, Year 3044**

Janson, you really need to stop convincing people to do potentially illegal things.

Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 1046 hours, Day 11, Month 3, Year 3044**

Look, it was all the therapists' idea. I just helped her come up with some of the finer points. And besides, isn't it a therapist's job to help people?

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 1047 hours, Day 11, Month 3, Year 3044**

Within the confines of the law.

Wedge

* * *

**Message sent at 1047 hours, Day 11, Month 3, Year 3044**

Well, aren't we narrow-minded?

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0812 hours, Day 13, Month 3, Year 3044**

Captain Solo has located an Imperial probe droid. The evacuation sequence has commenced.

Rieekan

* * *

**Message sent at 0812 hours, Day 13, Month 3, Year 3044**

How are we getting the transports out?

Mothma

* * *

**Message sent at 0812 hours, Day 13, Month 3, Year 3044**

Cover fire from the ion cannons.

Rieekan

* * *

**Message sent at 0812 hours, Day 13, Month 3, Year 3044**

Good. Get to you transport and tell Leia to get to hers. That's an order. I'll do likewise.

And you'd better give Captain Solo his clearance to leave.

Mothma

* * *

**Message sent at 0812 hours, Day 13, Month 3, Year 3044**

They've spotted Imperial walkers. We're going to need the fighters, Mon.

Rieekan

* * *

**Message sent at 0813 hours, Day 13, Month 3, Year 3044**

Noted. Now get to your transport.

Mothma

* * *

**Message sent at 0813 hours, Day 13, Month 3, Year 3044**

ATTENTION REBELS:

This is a full scale base evacuation. Get to your transports. Fighters, report to the hanger bay.

This is an Imperial invasion.

The High Council

* * *

**Message sent at 0814 hours, Day 13, Month 3, Year 3044**

Hey guys?

Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 0814 hours, Day 13, Month 3, Year 3044**

Howdy there Commander.

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0814 hours, Day 13, Month 3, Year 3044**

I'm… I'm sorry, about before.

Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 0815 hours, Day 13, Month 3, Year 3044**

Shut-up Lukie.

Hobs

* * *

**Message sent at 0815 hours, Day 13, Month 3, Year 3044**

Thanks.

Luke

* * *

**Message sent at 0815 hours, Day 13, Month 3, Year 3044**

Well… you know.

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0815 hours, Day 13, Month 3, Year 3044**

Yeah.

* * *

**Message sent at 0815 hours, Day 13, Month 3, Year 3044**

Yeah.

* * *

**Message sent at 0815 hours, Day 13, Month 3, Year 3044**

Yeah.

* * *

**Message sent at 0815 hours, Day 13, Month 3, Year 3044**

Yeah, well, there goes the remainder of our masculinity. I wonder if Wesimilia can shoot.

Let's go.

Janson

* * *

**Message sent at 0816 hours, Day 13, Month 3, Year 3044**

Han,

Look, you need to read this. I wrote it a long time ago, just in case. Wes asked me to. Actually, you probably don't have time to read it. Leia's in love with you.

Tell Leia that I'm not going with you to the rendezvous. I'm cutting my radio and going to Dagobah. Don't tell the brass.

Don't leave yet.

Luke

_Hey Han,_

_Well, if you're reading this, then you've either decided to leave or Leia's dead. So I really hope that you're not – reading it, that is. Even though it did take me awhile to draft._

_I'm no good at writing or anything like that. And no, you're wrong, they did teach us Basic on the old dust ball… just not how to use it effectively. Which means that you're gonna have to be patient, a new word for the Solo vocabulary._

_Oh, and don't worry, I'm going to try to cut back on any Jedi wisdoms. But really - they're just common sense. Though, you never liked straight common sense anyways, Leia'd point out._

_Leia. Well, she brings me back to the point of this thing. Jeez, I'm really starting this thing off well, aren't I? Alright, here goes; look Han, I know you like her. And don't go off saying you don't, 'cause I can sense these things. Really. I can. And even if I couldn't, which I can, the way you, well, look at her… _

_Um, okay. It's like this. Remember that time, back on Marodus, when the Alliance had that fundraiser? The one where they, um, auctioned us 'bachelors' off to the highest bidder. That was really humiliating… Anyways, remember when we found out Leia was gonna be the auctioneer, and you teased her so much 'cause she was gonna have to do a sales pitch for both of us. Then you came up with all these things she could say, like "and he likes long walks on moonlit beaches", except what I think you really said was nude beaches. _

_And when we actually got to the auction, do you remember how they gave us these numbers to stick on our chests? I was number six, and you were ten. You were sticking your number on when Leia walked in. And she had this summery dress on, it was a really light pink, and her hair was all… I dunno, it was just… Thing was, she wasn't dressed up or anything, she just was. And then you looked up, and I'll never forget that look on your face, with the number stuck to your fingers, and you just couldn't close your mouth. After she left the guys teased you, saying things in this announcer voice like "he likes petit princess in pink dresses" and you told them all to shut up._

_After I got auctioned I stuck around to watch you. Remember how she called you up onto the platform, and you winked at her, and she was all serious but you could tell she was trying not to smile? And then the betting started before she could even finish the sales pitch, which she blushed through. But then, all of a sudden, Wes put his hand up and said, real loud, I'll give you 340 credits. Then someone said that men couldn't bet, and Wes said, ah, keep an open mind. And then he turned to Leia and said that what he really wanted was for her to kiss you. She looked lost, 'cause of course he had won the betting, and everyone went all silent._

_But she looked at Wes, and she said "As you wish," in that Princess voice she gets sometimes. And you were smirking at her as she marched over to you. Then she pulled your head down, and kissed you, kinda softly, on the cheek. And everyone was like "come on, on the mouth," but Wes told Leia that that was fine, thank you. He went and plunked down the credits, you walked off the stage, and Leia was blushing so hard that she got the next guy's name wrong. And I knew you were both over the moon. Except I'm not sure Marodus had a moon, so…_

_Well, it's like that. I know you guys like each other._

_So, I've got a point here. _

_See, you argue all the time, which I think Wes said means a healthy relationship. But I think that it can make you forget, sometimes, that you really like each other. Um, okay. Yeah. So… Leia loves you._

_And maybe that wasn't the best way to tell you, but I've kinda been saying a lot of nothing so far, so… she loves you. And she told me so herself once, so you can quit lookin' all disbelieving. Look, I know she doesn't exactly show it all the time, but she can't 'cause she's a princess and she's got to be strong. I mean, like, what would happen if in the middle of one of the briefings she just got up and swooned over you, like in the holovids. Things would be totally… I dunno, it just would be so un-Leia-like. And then they'd have to call the medic to revive Dodonna. It would be bad._

_Um… see, Leia's stubborn. It isn't exactly a bad thing to be, but it means that I gotta be the one who writes her love letters to you. Think of me as her personal courier. 'Cause she'd want you to know. Course, she'd have probably done it better than me. _

_And Han, when you asked me about if a princess and a guy like you could ever… I lied, okay. I was crazy jealous, I think, 'cause I knew you were right._

_So, you know, go do something. Go after her._

_Luke _

_P.S. Okay, look, you completely have to do something, if only because I didn't mention the Force once in that whole thing._

* * *

**Message sent at 0912 hours, Day 13, Month 3, Year 3044**

Falcon to Transport One. Have got Princess. Are being chased by Imperials, no clear coordinates. Are having technical failures, no incoming communication. Will report back when can. Falcon Out.

* * *

Message sent at 0923 hours, Day 13, Month 3, Year 3044

Rogue One to Rogue Leader, come in Rogue Leader.

* * *

**Message sent at 0923 hours, Day 13, Month 3, Year 3044**

Rogue One to Rogue Leader. Come in Rogue Leader.

* * *

**Message sent at 0923 hours, Day 13, Month 3, Year 3044**

Rogue One to Rogue Two. I do not have a visual of Skywalker's fighter. Do you have a visual?

* * *

**Message sent at 0923 hours, Day 13, Month 3, Year 3044**

Rogue One, this is Rogue Two. I do not have a visual.

* * *

**Message sent at 0923 hours, Day 13, Month 3, Year 3044**

Rogue One to Rogue Three. Do you have a visual on Skywalker?

* * *

**Message sent at 0923 hours, Day 13, Month 3, Year 3044**

Negative, Rogue One.

* * *

**Message sent at 0923 hours, Day 13, Month 3, Year 3044**

Rogue One to Rogue Leader. Come in Rogue Leader.

* * *

**Message sent at 0924 hours, Day 13, Month 3, Year 3044**

Rogue One to Rogue Leader. Come in Rogue Leader.

* * *

**Message sent at 0924 hours, Day 13, Month 3, Year 3044**

Rogue One to Rogue Leader! Come in Rogue Leader. What are your coordinates?

* * *

**Message sent at 0925 hours, Day 13, Month 3, Year 3044**

Rogue Two to Rogue One… Janson, we have to get to the rendezvous. We can't wait.

* * *

**Message sent at 0925 hours, Day 13, Month 3, Year 3044**

Give me a minute, Hobs.

* * *

**Message sent at 0925 hours, Day 13, Month 3, Year 3044**

Rogue One to Rogue Leader. Come in Rogue Leader.

* * *

**Message sent at 0925 hours, Day 13, Month 3, Year 3044**

Rogue One to Rogue Leader. Come in Rogue Leader.

* * *

**Message sent at 0925 hours, Day 13, Month 3, Year 3044**

Come in Rogue Leader.

* * *

**Well?**


	18. How To Mourn Violently

**Chapter Summary: **Han can pick Leia's lipstick out of a lineup.

**AN: **

…Okay, on the vague off-chance that the fans of this story haven't all given up on me:

_I'm ba-ack._

(Hide the children.)

Please, please, please don't kill me. I am so sorry I have been gone for so long (and wow – can you even really _remember_ the plot of this thing?) but life… is unfortunate and inconvenient. And then I was afraid to publish and disappoint (oh, these authors and their inferiority complexes). And _then _I realized I was being a complete baby, got over myself, and wrote something.

I love you all, even if you have all run away tearing your hair out by now. I actually don't think I can convey how much I appreciate you guys.

Oh - please don't eat me.

-

**Meeting Transcript: On the Subject of Attempting Not to be Violently Disassembled by the Empire**

Upon arriving at the rendezvous coordinates, esteemed (and by that we mean still alive) members of the High Council scheduled an emergency meeting to take stock of the situation in which we find ourselves - that is, scattered to the four corners of the galaxy without a planet to our name. The last attack on Hoth Base has left the Alliance… slightly less allied. It all looks rather bleak.

This meeting serves a double purpose – both to organize and to take role-call. An unconfirmed report has come in stating that Captain Solo, his co-pilot Chewbacca, and the Princess/Senator Leia Organa are missing in action. They are presumed to be on the ship Falcon. Radio connection has yet to be established. Commander Luke Skywalker is also un-locatable (which is most likely not a word, but I digress) and presumed dead. Which he clearly isn't, of course, because blonde Alliance poster boys simply do not die at the drop of a hat – it isn't the done thing. There are procedures—

Hold on… Entering the meeting room, which had previously only housed this typist, is Supreme Commander Mon Mothma. The Commander does a slight double take upon finding the space already inhabited – she raises her eyebrows and it looks like, yes, I believe she is going to spea—

**Mothma (rather weakly):** Janson. It's you.

**Janson: **Were you expecting someone else, ma'am? Having a clandestine encounter with General Dodonna, perhaps? And here you told me we were exclusive-

**Mothma (hissing): **_Would you just shut up. _(She takes a deep breath.) No. It's just— they told me a pilot… had died… and I thought—

**Janson: **Now I can finally run away with Jan?

(There is a pause.)

**Mothma (I do believe a whole new level of sarcasm has been reached): **Yes, Janson, of course. That was my exact thought process when I heard you had died. I said to myself, wonderful; now I can run off and have an affair with one of my Generals.

**Janson: **Well, aren't we unfeeling. (Sings.) _Not even one tear cried for me, my love, not even one…_

**Mothma: **(Stares blankly.)

**Janson: **(Trails off as he feels his reproductive organs run for cover.) Ahem(A pause.) But ma'am, if I were gone, think of how wretched your life would become. Think of the loss - who would be left to adore you from all angles and radii? Who would extol your great deeds to the masses? _Who would lick the ground you walk on?_

**Mothma (looking rather nonplussed): **No one, I imagine. Much like now, Janson, as you do none of those things, thank gods.

**Janson: **But I could, you see. It's the potential for action that counts.

**Mothma: **Tell me, does this mean you're actually going to start _doing_ these things? Because if so, I'll call off the cleaning droids and simply let your saliva do the work.

**Janson (with a mock bow): **I live to serve.

**Mothma: **I'll tell you how you can _serve_ me… _Type up the summary_!

**Janson: **You wound me, ma'am, with the ways you lead me on. My heart is even more broken than usual—

**Mothma (dryly): **And here I had not thought such a thing possible.

**Janson (continuing): **—Unfortunately, the summary has already been typed. In what other ways can I… be of service?

**Mothma: **(Opening her mouth, looking… well, this typist fears for his immortal soul, when—

**Dodonna (entering the room, abruptly stopping when he sees the picture before him): **Oh, but I _had_ hoped you died Janson.

**Mothma (momentarily distracted from her prey): **Jan, really-

**Rieekan (filing in behind Dodonna): **Good to see you again, Janson. (Shakes the typist's hand – with a good firm grip, I might add. Excellent in the corporate boardroom.)

**Mothma (sighing): **I suppose it's probably too much to hope that, as the meeting has not actually started, none of the previous conversation has been recorded.

**Janson: **Probably… Don't worry, though, I won't show it to anyone. I'll just frame it, sleep with it under my pillow, dedicate a shrine to it—

The Supreme Commander is saved from answering by the sudden arrival of the High Council in its entirety (in other words, many persons who this typist has had no previous encounters with and does not, for the life of him, know the names of).

**Mothma (quietly, reading over the typist's shoulder): **Even thought he should, considering his long career with the Alliance. (Standing, addressing the room.)Gentle beings, I would like to call this meeting to order, but before I do so I would like to impress upon you the need for extreme secrecy regarding what we are about to discuss. These issues are of such a delicate nature that they will not even be contained on the official record—

**Janson: **Wait, wait, wait, hold everything… What exactly does that _mean_?

**Mothma (out of the corner of her mouth): **It _means_ you stop typing, Janson.

**Janson: **Hang on, are you telling me that I was dragged out of bed to type up this meeting… and now I'm not even going to type anything?

**Mothma (tightly): **Yes.

**Janson: **Well, forgive me, but that does seem a little bit idiotic—

**Mothma (it is so very, very frightening): **Stop. Typing. Janson

**Janson: **Yes, ma'am.

(In order to pass the time during The Long And Endless Conversation I Am Not Supposed To Type Because Our Transcripts Don't Self-Destruct When Placed In The Wrong Hands Even Though That Would Totally Be A Completely Practical Use Of Funds™, I shall make lists:

Worst Case Scenarios

1. We could all die at the hands of the Empire and not even get proper burials, just chucked out the airlock into space.

2. Alternately, we could all die at the hands of the Empire and _get _proper burials, with like, a Sith blessing or something creepy.

3. We could run out of women. Have no way to repopulate the universe.

4. The Supreme Commander could _actually_ kill me with her eyes—

**Mothma (um, she kind of sounds inhuman): **Janson, what are you typing?

**Janson: **…Erotic love poetry?

**Mothma: **Janson, stop typing.

**Janson: **Right away.

-

An obscenely long, long amount of time later, the Supreme Commander ends the Conversation Which I Cannot Type™ and informs this typist that he may once again resume his duties (oh goody).

**Mothma: **…Which brings this meeting to a close. Good day, gentle beings.

(There is much shuffling, comments of the "you're standing on my hem" variety, and a rather large exodus as the Council departs. All that now remains in the room are this typist, Generals Rieekan and Dodonna, and Supreme Commander Mothma.

On an unrelated note, I do believe this may be the most colossally useless transcript ever created.)

**Mothma (abruptly, once the door has closed behind the last Council member): **Where's Leia?

**Rieekan: **We've confirmed she's with Solo… but, so far, nothing on their coordinates.

**Mothma (while placing her head in her hands, muffled): **I'm quite sure that if he could, Bail would kill me from beyond the grave. (And then, more quietly.) She's barely twenty years old…

(General Rieekan pats her hand, General Dodonna shrugs rather helplessly. There is a longer silence.)

**Janson:** Skywalker?

**Mothma (looking up): **What about him, Janson?

**Janson: **Have... have there been any reports? Of his whereabouts?

**Mothma (sighing): **I'm sorry, Wes, but not that I know of. We still haven't taken a complete roll call of the pilots; he could have already landed… I though _you_ were dead, after all.

**Rieekan (smiling): **I would have liked to have seen that reunion.

**Janson: **Oh, you should've. There were tears and birds singing and live music and—

**Mothma (raising an eyebrow): **Are you speaking of our encounter or a cheap holo-film?

**Janson: **Ah – so we've had an encounter, now, have we?

**Mothma (smiling dangerously – good lord, _what_ was in the cafe this morning?): **Trust me Janson, if you and I ever have an… _encounter, _you won't have to ask that question. Now – stop typing.

**Janson (slowly): **Believe me - I don't have the ability to anymore.

End Transcript.

-

**Message sent at 1116 hours, Day 8, Month 3, Year 3044**

Our conversations are never very fulfilling. Has anyone else noticed?

— Janson

-

**Message sent at 1116 hours, Day 8, Month 3, Year 3044**

How do you mean?

— Wedge

-

**Message sent at 1116 hours, Day 8, Month 3, Year 3044**

Well, for instance, we never discuss the meaning of it all: life, death… sex.

— Janson

-

**Message sent at 1117 hours, Day 8, Month 3, Year 3044**

Wesy, there is no meaning of sex.

— Hobs

-

**Message sent at 1119 hours, Day 8, Month 3, Year 3044**

I miss Luke.

— Janson

-

_Journal of Princess Leia Organa_

_12th Day, 3rd Month, 3044th Year_

Hiding, according to my data pad, is a state of concealment. To hide, it similarly informs me, is a verb meaning to move out of sight. I am therefore forced to conclude - with unflinching research to prove it - that I am in fact being ridiculously childish, cowardly, and other such c-adjectives, and that what I am doing is _indeed_ hiding from Captain Han Solo (despite the fact that I'm not actually crouching behind anything).

I'm a mature, grown woman, capable of running a war, and I'm sitting in the spare cabin _hiding, _for kreth's sakes. And – oh god, oh dear god, its exactly like in one of those holo-movies that I hate so much, the ones that claim to be all feminist and pro-thinking because the heroine is a strong career woman, except that then, fifteen time-parts in she suddenly a) meets a man b) goes completely weak-kneed/is undone by his masculinity/finds that she _needs _someone to "complete her" and they run off together and she becomes a homemaker.

I absolutely refuse to become a homemaker.

Except, now that I know the ending of the story, I can change it. Because, I'm sure, if someone had gone up to the first little piggy and told him, "you idiot, if you make that house out of straw you're going to get yourself eaten," he absolutely, definitely wouldn't have done it.

I am not going to make _my_ house out of straw.

-

Later:

For future references, I should probably refrain from making any decisions at oh-four-hundred-hours of the morning that are based on feminist sensibilities and straw houses. And also: just because Han Solo has kissed me and I am now systematically avoiding him like death, destruction, and Dodonna without his cafe, it doesn't mean I am pathetic. It simply means… I have no idea what it means. If my therapist were here she'd probably tell me that it means I'm a commitment-phobe and will soon starting breaking off any relationship whose projected trajectory lasts longer than five minutes.

It would most likely be beneficial for me to start at the beginning (although not at the _beginning_ beginning because that either occurred when I was born or at the start of time, and, consequently, I can remember neither).

The Captain kissed me. On the lips, in the afthold. (And I'm not going to describe it because _that_ would make me twelve years old.) He kissed me, we are now fleeing to Bespin at sub-speed, I'm avoiding him, and absolutely none of this has anything to do with me becoming a homemaker.

Logically, in the interest of self-preservation, becoming involved with a man whose dearest ambition is to make port, deposit you, and then flee frantically in the opposite direction, _may not be the brightest of plans._ (It is, however, slightly more intelligent than walking towards Vader waving and white flag bearing a rainbow and the slogan "lets just be friends," but nevertheless.) Clearly, my therapist is right and I do become more flippant when I'm nervous.

And oh, is it sad that I have absolutely no idea what to do? Because it's definitely pathetic that I'm asking.

-

**Falcon Ship Log**

**Day 15, Month 3, Year 3044**

So. Now I know what the mouths of royalty taste like (and it's not of decaying wealth, castles, or lies). Her Highness tastes like cafe and fear, metallic, and she kisses the same way she does everything else: bold. This is the first kiss, because the others were just half-offs, don't count.

'Course, she ran away after, which is not exactly the kind of response I like to provoke. (However, the response I like to provoke usually involves sighing, which I can't picture her doing even at gunpoint, so.) We're on a ship, and unless she's been hiding a talent that enables her to breath in space, she ain't going far.

And it's going to take three weeks – a full standard month – to get to Bespin.

-

**Message sent at 0341 hours, Day 19, Month 3, Year 3044**

So… should we blow something up then?

— Janson

-

**Message sent at 0341 hours, Day 19, Month 3, Year 3044**

Just because?

— Wedge

**-**

**Message sent at 0341 hours, Day 19, Month 3, Year 3044**

Just because.

— Janson

-

**Message sent at 0612 hours, Day 19, Month 3, Year 3044**

Remind me why, again, is it that we're not punishing them for setting fire to my toupee?

— Dodonna

-

**Message sent at 0612 hours, Day 19, Month 3, Year 3044**

Because Jan; they've lost their Commander.

— Rieekan

-

**Message sent at 0612 hours, Day 19, Month 3, Year 3044**

Why they can't just mourn in normal, non-violent ways, I'll never understand.

— Dodonna

-

_Journal of Princess Leia Organa_

_20th Day, 3rd Month, 3044th Year_

Captain Solo has clearly never heard the words personal space, propriety, and politeness. He does, however, know the word exhilarating.

He's been cornering me in every alcove of this ship, trying his damnedest to start arguments. Arguments that invariably lead to… not arguing. I have absolutely no idea where this relationship is going and am so far from composed I can not even see it – composed is a spec, hovering on my horizon. I have yet to feel weak-kneed, however, and haven't had a single inclination to dust or sweep or cook. But I'm staying away from the galley and kitchen, just in case.

I still don't quite feel in control.

Later:

…And what does Leia do when she doesn't feel in control? She gets it back, of course, and initiates a kiss with Han Solo. (My therapist would be so very, very amused.)

Her: Classic, Leia. You feel an excessive need to exert control over your life.

Me: I already _know_ that. You're not helping.

Her: You're the one imagining this conversation. I'm just here for the floor show.

On a side note, Han was quite surprised. But pleasantly so, I think.

-

**Falcon Ship Log**

**Day 23, Month 3, Year 3044**

The Princess (and it should be Leia, call her Leia) sleeps neatly, coiled into a ball, all limbs kept to herself. Sometimes when I touch her she flinches. And I'd really like to see the imps try to board us now – I would destroy them with my bare hands.

She may sleep neatly, but her hair goes absolutely everywhere. I wake up with my nose buried in it all the time, I find it in the drains of the 'fresher, on my shirts, on the floor. Woman sheds more than Chewie, who has, by the by, made himself scarce (which is quite a feat when you're _that_ size.)

I think it's at the point where I could pick her lipstick out of a line-up. (And I am so far in over my head— The water is warm.)

-

**Um… I hesitate to ask this, but:**

**Well?**


	19. This Could've All Been Avoided

**(Yeah. It's getting kind of annoying, isn't it? I apologize.)**

**In which Limelight pulls up her socks and writes an actually decent chapter. Last one was mostly (crap) fluff to warm me up. This one has a PLOT. Plot, boys and girls, is a Good Thing.**

**(And Aladailey, honey… Bohemian Rhapsody?)**

**Summary: **The Rogue Squadron is broken up. Pandemonium ensues. Han _finally_ receives Luke's letter. Pandemonium also ensues.

**

* * *

**

**_This Could've All Been Avoided_**

-

**Message sent at 0748 hours, Day 24, Month 3, Year 3044**

To the Most Esteemed but also Estranged Pilot Wedge Antilles,

Keeper of my spleen, and also, possibly, left heart ventricle,

YES, I MEAN YOU

This is horrible – the Evil-Emperor-Takes-Over-The-Universe-Mass-Genocide-Of-Everything-That-EXISTS-Follows-But-OH-WAIT-That's-Already-Happened-Hasn't-It? kind of horrible. I mean, when they dissolved the Rogue Squadron and scattered us to the solar winds (which inevitably blew towards other squadrons), couldn't they just have kept us _together_?

I miss you.

To compensate, I must bug Hobs constantly and did, that is, until he said "please please go away and leave me to die you horrible horrible human being" and went to sleep. I am now very ALONE and bored, which, as we know, is never a good combination. BORED is to WES what DEATH AND DESPAIR is to -------------.

(The answer is, of course, THOSE LITTLE TINY RED BUGS WE DISCOVERED ON THAT ROCK THAT ONE TIME.)

But let's not talk about that anymore – let's talk about my adventures… But OH WAIT, we can't, because of the censor droids and their evil evil blackout pens of doom. I can't tell you anything. I'm not even supposed to be writing at all, actually. So, after reading, hide this under your pillow or, you know, in an Impenetrable Safe.

**CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR **Also, the ground here is terribly hard – harder than normal. It is Freakishly Hard Ground of Disaster, is what it is. And to top it all off, the tent is leaky in unprecedented ways. I think I can see **CENSOR** from here.

Too tired to even entertain you anymore. PERMEABLE is to TENTS what DERIVATIVES are to

Janson

-

**Message sent at 1913 hours, Day 25, Month 3, Year 3044**

C.

I think that you were perhaps correct in your assumption that splitting up the Rogue Squadron would be a blow to moral – if Antilles looks at me soulfully over his terminal during briefings one more time, someone is going to lose body parts – but what I'm really regretting is sending you and Jan on the reconnaissance mission. Surely General Perkin could have handled it alone, and I really am going slightly stir-crazy here without you.

No, there is still no word of Leia, and I miss you also.

M.

-

**Message sent at 2301 hours, Day 25, Month 3, Year 3044**

TO: Wes Janson,

Location Unknown.

Owner of the spleen, and also, possibly, left ventricle, which I seem to unknowingly keep

You do realize, of course, that estranged only applies to spouses and, considering that we had that one incident on **CENSOR** annulled, it is improper and degrading to refer to me as such.

While you two are off gallivanting around on censor-worthy exploits with Ground of Unusual Hardness, That is Also, More Probably, A Figment of Wes's Imagination, I remain here. I have taken over your job as typist, but I don't think that **CENSOR CENSOR** likes me very much (we seem to disagree on the proper use and placement of quotation marks). In other news, you were right; her stare appears to be _actually_ _physically_ _painful_. I think it should make our weapons list (which is rather short, by the by – if we're attacked by anything, let alone **CENSOR**, it could be The End and Rather Painfully Ever After).

Yes, being dissolved and scattered is horrifying – but really, Wes, how much good would we have done without a Commander? I can understand why they did it. When Lukie comes back from Unknown Distances we'll all be put nicely back together, with an apology and a batch of cookies.

Until then I remain,

Here with the **CENSOR** **CENSOR**, her Eyes, and Quotation Marks (which she probably also owns).

Wedge

P.S. What have you and Hobs been up to? Other than permeable tents.

P.P.S. Have you noticed that it takes decidedly longer to send these things now that we're, you know, not in the same star system? (Although, technically, I suppose we could be for I know. All I seem to hear about these days is Why I Am A Security Breach, Why You Are A Security Breach, and Why We Should All Burn Burn Burn.)

-

**Message sent at 2139 hours, Day 25, Month 3, Year 3044**

—Wedge

Hobs and I have been doing what we are doing and I wish you would stop asking me things you know I can't answer. I, unlike you, really have no desire to Burn Burn Burn. (There is a joke here to be made about sexually transmitted infections, but I shall refrain.)

Here are some things that I have not recently seen, and am missing the way a cardiac patient misses a heart donor:

**1)** a toothbrush

**2) **food with the moisture _included_, and not in a separate tube that has to be mixed in

**3) **my sanity

**4) **mysocks

**5) **sleep

**6) **YOU

I dream of desk jobs and long for the day they give up and send us back. Kiss the brass for me. Janson.

-

Antilles,

It is hell. Wesy is hell. Wish you were here. And for gods' sakes, _stop_ using the names of figures of power in your letters – the droids are a little censor happy and black splotches aren't aesthetically pleasing.

Yours &c.

Hobs

-

**Message sent at 0154 hours, Day 26, Month 3, Year 3044**

(The following is a telegram, dictated not written)

MA'AM—

I think of you both daily and nightly STOP I think of you all-the-time-ly STOP What these thoughts are I shall leave to your imagination STOP But they involve whipped cream and whipping boys MASSIVE AMOUNTS OF PUNCTUATION Please please find it in your heart to pull whatever strings are within the reach of your lovely puppet-master-hands' and relocate me to somewhere with running water STOP I put that last part in mostly to confuse the censors ha ha STOP

Commander I am a dog I am your dog I am your lap dog STOP

I am your love slave I am your love I love you FULL STOP

Janson

**-**

**Message sent at 0233 hours, Day 26, Month 3, Year 3044**

To: Wesy, Hobs, and the censors (who apparently have no respect for literature and an intrinsic attachment to splotches)

I suppose I should be thankful that I am getting any word at all, shouldn't I? Although, with that last dig at the droids, I won't be surprised if the next letter from you is nothing more than one rather large splotch.

I really am sorry about my constant asking. I shouldn't ask. This is the real thing now, isn't it— it's Who Can Stay Un-Dead The Longest instead of Guess Which Council Chair Has The Broken Leg. Is anyone else feeling nostalgic? I'm feeling nostalgic.

Things here are normal and boring. The-woman-who-the-censors-like-to-splotch and I still do not get along, except during very early-morning meetings, when everyone gets drunk on the lack of sleep and power and I'm allowed to throw proper punctuation to the wind. Sometimes I don't even capitalize.

The heater in Sector **CENSOR **quit without so much as a day of notice. Needless to say it's not getting severance pay (yes, I did just write that) and it is extremely cold. In other words Ha Ha What Else Is New.

Everyone is getting married here. We've gotten to that bizarre and hopeless part of war that causes strangers to turn to each other and say "You know, I've always wanted to do something long-term and stupid, my name's ------------ and you'd really look good in a makeshift gown and wire ring." Humanity is curious, is it not?

Wedge

**-**

**Excerpt from: "meeting concerning the proper duty assignments in sector 4-A"**

…_supreme commander mothma: pray-tell, antilles, is there a reason you have chosen to forsake the common laws of grammar? need I remind you that I have power over your leisure days and will not hesitate to remove-_

_antilles: would you maybe like me better if I used adjectives?_

_supreme commander: I am not kidding about the leisure mr. antilles do not test me here I will…_

**End excerpt.**

-

**Falcon Ship Log**

**Day 27, Month 3, Year 3044**

Chewie and me are finally finished repairs ('cept the damn hyperdrive). Regained communications, which wasn't useful at all. Not like it's gonna make us fly faster. Got lots of old messages, though – apparently, the brass has been trying to contact us for a while. Probably think we're dead by now. Not that I mind.

Messages:

**7 **from Dodonna, ranging from polite to… not-so-much, asking where I am, what have I done with the Princess, to the Princess, at the Princess, etc.

**4 **from Mothma, all polite, all having to do with the Princess.

**2 **from Rieekan, asking after the Princess _and _myself (nice change, that. Might even reply to him).

**1** from the kid, which is so goddamned long I have yet to actually read it.

Later:

Important bits of information in Luke's message:

**1) **He's on Dagobah, which is… well okay, it's really unusual and I have absolutely no idea— just, he's on Dagobah, so.

**2) **He doesn't want me to tell the brass, and yes, I'm not gonna do that because, well, duh.

**3) **He apparently thinks Her Highness is in love with me, and really, really, I just— there should be a manual, I cannot even— Sometimes, with her eyes like that I think she maybe… but damn.

**4) **This is the stupidest, most ridiculous way to find out anything—

I mean, I am probably, too… but we aren't even— We walk around all damn day-cycle calling each other Princess and Captain and talking about krething data sheets, only to fall into bed with each other every night, and we pretend like its not going to happen, brushing our teeth, but then it, it just does, and I… I always leave before she wakes up, and in the morning, over cafe, she talks to me about the hull's integrity like I haven't seen her without anything— like I haven't seen her naked, like I don't know where her birthmark is, how she sounds when—

Oh hell, oh hell, this is not normal.

-

**Message sent at 2311 hours, Day 27, Month 3, Year 3044**

Wedge,

**CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR**

**CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR**

**CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR** **CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR**

regards,

Janson & Hobs

-

**Message sent at 1107 hours, Day 28, Month 3, Year 3044**

(The following is a telegram, dictated not written)

Ma'am—

I have fallen for like you are gravity and I am a heavy object STOP I cry cerulean tears of pure testosterone into my pillow every night we are apart STOP They burn tiny holes in the fabric STOP Such is the power my masculinity STOP

As it stands you owe me several pillows STOP

Until we meet again my dear my dear I shall worship you from afar but soon soon soon STOP Don't cry for me Commander FULLSTOP

Janson

-

_Journal of Princess Leia Organa_

_28th Day, 3rd Month, 3044th Year_

_The only way I would have survived this relationship would have been by not having it. Looking back, I've decided that the best course of action I could have taken would have been – the second after Han kissed me – to develop a time machine, travel back twenty years, and stab my pregnant mother in the stomach. Failing that, I should have just thrown myself out the airlock._

_Clearly I have masochistic tendencies. This is just the most dysfunctional relationship I have ever- My therapist, she would just-_

_And today it just got stranger. He kissed me just now, even though we don't, not ever in the daytime-_

_Okay. Begin at the beginning._

_I was standing in the galley, back to the door. He walked in the way he walks, like he owns the room and everything in it. And I didn't turn, because we're playing the denial-game during day cycles, and things like the way he walks into rooms aren't supposed to make my heart jump, dammit. _

_But then he came right up behind and curved his hands to my hipbones, spinning me around, making me turn. _

_I jumped, because he's not supposed to touch, we're not supposed to touch. That's the way denial works – like maybe if we kick it into the corner and just don't look at it it'll go away – and denial means no touching, absolutely no touching, but oh he was touching. He was definitely touching._

_He just looked at me, saying Leia, Leia, like I was some kind of— like he was dying, or I was, like a ship was going down and they had just said women and children first and it was pretty clear he wasn't going to pass. _

_And then he kissed me. _

_And kissed me. _

_And kissed me. _

_It was desperate and hard-soft, with Leia, gods, Leia against my mouth, all breath, and his hands caught on my hips like they were beached there. He tried to lift me to the galley counter, but he surprised me and I tucked my feet up so that when he set me down I was kneeling, awkwardly, knee on either side of his hips. And he never stopped, not once, hands moving, hips to shoulder blades to thighs, lips going from chin to collarbone and back. _

_I sat there, counter digging into my shins until it hurt, but I couldn't move and didn't want to. Instead I squeezed his hips with my knees, tugged on his belt because I needed him _closer_, and he made sounds like I was hurting him._

_Gods, Leia, he said into my neck, only he didn't say it with words, he said it with lips and tongue and teeth. Just Leiagodsleia like it was a new language. He whispered other things too, Corellian, probably, and I couldn't understand, but I caught the tone. I knew the tone, and my stomach swooped like I was falling off the counter but I wasn't moving. I wasn't moving at all._

_And then he stopped. Just pulled back, broke all contact, and it was just our breath, rattling around in the empty galley. I spoke into the silence, to fill it, break it, but all I could think of to say was 'what was that for?' Like I was some idiot, like he hadn't just kissed me as if we were both dying. _

'_I just," he said, wide-eyed, mouth still wet from my mouth. "I just want- Leia." He looked lost, dazed. And the way he said my name then— _

_But suddenly he smiled, a crooked half-grin. "You looked like you could use a good kiss," he said, throwing an old argument back at me._

_And he left the room._

_He left me there, staring after him, perched half-kneeling and panting. And even now, there are still two matching red marks along my shins where the counter edge bit into my skin._

_His mouth left no marks at all._

_(But I can still feel it.)_

-

**Message sent at 2353 hours, Day 28, Month 3, Year 3044**

To M. Janson and M. Klivian,

Insensitive Sons of Bitches,

Or, Failing That,

Absolute Bastards

PLEASE PLEASE BY ALL MEANS SEND ME GAG LETTERS MORE OFTEN. IT'S NOT AS IF I'M SITTING HERE WAITING DESPERATELY FOR SOME WORD YOU'RE STILL ALIVE, YOU ASSHOLES.

(And if you're going to pretend to be censor droids, at least get the colour of ink right. Gods.)

Just so you know, there's a foreign presence in the bunkrooms these days. It is called QUIET and PEACE and TRAQUILITY. (…Alright, so that's three foreign presences. Sue me.) I actually eat _entire_ _meals_ all on my own. The first time I finished a tray in the mess I nearly had a fit, looking over my shoulder the entire time, waiting for the flying tackle oh-so-cleverly disguised as a grab for my salad. She Who Cannot Be Mentioned Under Pain Of Splotching gave me very strange looks (of the what-are-compulsive-eaters-doing-in-my-army variety).

_They_ eat with us now, by the way. I think it's an attempt to raise moral, but mostly everyone's just afraid to swallow too loudly, lest it be construed as rude. 'Tis great fun.

Come back alive or I'll kill you.

Wedge

**-**

**Message sent at 0601 hours, Day 29, Month 3, Year 3044**

C.

Leia is alive and well, thank the gods. I just spoke to her over a newly-repaired radio connection to the Falcon. (Solo. Damn him.) Their hyperdrive has apparently surrendered itself over to the Great Beyond, which is to say the ship is practically incapacitated. They're headed towards a mining colony for repairs. She sounds fine, Carlist, but I just don't know... I can never tell, with her, that's always been your area, and—

And when, exactly, did I stop acting like her commanding officer and start acting like her mother?

I'm exhausted. I just want her back here where I can keep a better eye, where she can lead the troops, but… Some days I also want to let Solo take her someplace far, far away and hide her where no one will ever look.

Skywalker is still AWOL, Janson is sending me dirty limericks, and I miss you more than is appropriate.

yours,

M.

-

**Excerpt from: "meeting altering the status of the millennium falcon from _MIA _to _incapacitated with limited mobility_"**

…_antilles: so that's all you need me to write? the status change? couldn't this have been done over comm. link? _

_supreme commander mothma: excuse me, antilles, but do you have any experience with running a military operation?_

_antilles: are you normally like this or do I just bring it out in_...

**End excerpt.**

**-**

**Message sent at 1619 hours, Day 30, Month 3, Year 3044**

To: His Esteemed Majesty, Wedge Antilles

Location: Oh Get Down Off That Soapbox

It's not like you're completely blameless here, you know. You COULD have informed us that you-know-who and that-other-guy-no-not-him-_him _have finally been located. But oh no, we had to hear it along with the rest of the riff-raff like common _soldiers_. You're our contact to the inside, you idiot, so start acting like it. I mean it. YOU BETTER BE LEAKING SECRETS SOON BUDDY OR IT'S CURTAINS FOR THIS RELATIONSHIP. DO NOT TEST ME.

It's nice to know they're alive, though, isn't it? Gives me the warm and fuzzies.

And do not be silly, Wedgie, what is all this talk about QUIET? QUIET is boring. QUIET is what drives people to insanity.

If you keep eating entire lunches you shall gain immense amounts of weight, and when we return, decorated with so many medals that we are simply _clanging_, we shall not recognize you. We will say to each other (in rather loud voices to be heard over the clanging): 'that large blob over there holds a superficial resemblance to our dear old Wedgicals.' But we shall shake our heads – the resulting noise will deafen several bystanders – and conclude that no, it couldn't possibly be. Meanwhile, you will be unable to speak, seeing as you will be so fat you'll have even gained weight on your TONGUE, of all places. You will merely squeak – rather pathetically – after us as we walk (clanging) into the sunset.

_This message would have self-destructed, but seeing as we don't have the budget, you will have to settle for it fizzing rather pathetically._

Janson

-

Antilles –

Refer to me by last name again and I will have your tongue bronzed and presented to a sith lord.

Hobs

-

_**(The following is a written record of a ship-to-ship comm. call.)**_

Come in, Empress One. This is Leia Organa and the Millennium Falcon. Do you read me? Over.

Organa, reading you loud and clear. This is the Bridge. Over.

Bridge, requesting connection to Supreme Commander Mothma. Clearance code is 64A 2H1. Over.

Patching you through. Over.

(Dead air)

Um, hello? Can anybody— er, can anybody hear me?

Who is this? Over.

This is- well crap, this is Wedge Antilles. Who's this please?

Antilles, this is Leia Organa. What, exactly, are you doing answering Mon Mothma's personal calls? Over.

I'm- well, I'm in here cleaning her plants, you see, and this thing just started buzzing…

You're cleaning her pla— Just, can you get me Mon Mothma, Antilles? (There is background static.) No, Han. No, I'm not going to— okay, fine. Can you get me Mothma _please_? Over.

Um, no go, Princess. She's not exactly… I'm actually not sure where she is, you see.

Okay. Fine. (Static) -_stop it_, _Han_.Do you know when she'll be back? Over.

Well, no, to be honest. …Over.

That's just— Well, I'll wait.

You'll wait? Over.

Yes, Antilles, I'll wait. Over.

(Dead air)

…So, Princess, how's the war at your end?

It's— _Han, stop. _It's about the same, I would imagine, Antilles. Over.

Yeah. That's… that's what I figured. We're, um, all fine here too. Over.

That's— That's wonderful. (Static) _-not now, Han. _Just… wonderful, Antilles. O-Over.

Um… are you all right, Your Highness? Over.

I'm fine, Antilles. Just, um- (Static)

Well, if you're sure…

I'm— I'm sure._ Han, you're— (_Static) (Dead air) …You know what Antilles, this is— _oh,_ a pointless waste of resources and I'll just- I'll call back later. (Static) -_Han, Han, you really need to sto—_ D-do you copy, Antilles? Over.

Oh, I copy, Your Highness. Over.

Great. F-fantastic. Organaoverandout.

(Connection is severed)

-

**Well?**


End file.
